New Beginning
by DevynQ
Summary: Elena wakes up a vampire, though she doesn't know it and can't remember the accident. This is where the Season 3 finale left off. She's now aware of everything she had been compelled to forget, and she also possesses vampiric speed, super strength, and supernaturally keen senses. In her last human moments, Elena chose Stefan. Now that Elena's a vampire, will her decision change?
1. Confusion

**This is my first fanfic, so go easy on me (or not)! I really hope you guys like this, and of course reviews/comments/critiques are encouraged~**

* * *

Elena gasps and opens her eyes.

She's aware that she has suddenly moved upright, but the motion is too quick, too unnatural. One second she was lying flat, and now she is sitting, blinking, taking in her odd surroundings. Trees. Lots of bark and leaves and woodsy scents. Pine needles coat the ground. In the back of her mind, Elena knows something is wrong. It's just a faint pinprick of unease, but it's still there, scratching at her, begging to be noticed.

She's sitting alone on a giant concrete slab, almost like an oversized gravestone. The thought makes her shudder. How has she gotten here? What has she been doing? And what's happening _now_? Her memories are hazy and indistinct, as if she's grasping at them through a dense fog. What's going on, and where is everyone else?

Elena remembers getting into Matt's truck. They had been talking, though she can't remember the exact topic. It had been important, and it had upset her greatly, and yet she still can't recall the words, the emotions, the _reason_. Maybe it had involved Klaus and his conquest for her blood. Or maybe Stefan, who had shown a certain side of him, a certain _Ripper_ side of him, that she is not sure she likes at all. Or might it have been Rebekah, who…

That's it. The realization strikes Elena. She and Matt had been heading back to her house in Mystic Falls when Rebekah inexplicably appeared in the middle of the road that stretches across the Wickery Bridge.

She takes a moment to reflect on how much she truly hates that bridge. It is the scene of her parents' deaths…and almost her own, as well. Her body instinctively tenses whenever she crosses that abominable structure, and she always keeps her eyes focused straight ahead to avoid looking into the lake under it. She doesn't want to be reminded of the hideous events that have transpired beneath the surface.

Anyway, Matt and Elena had swerved to avoid Rebekah, crashed through the bridge's guardrails, and then off the bridge entirely. The truck had quickly been swallowed up by lake water. At the time, Elena hadn't been sure whether or not Matt was conscious, and so she had started shoving him, trying to rouse him.

That's when Stefan miraculously appeared.

She had pointed her finger as firmly as she could at Matt, and she knows Stefan had understood what she meant: "Take Matt to the surface first!" After a brief hesitation (during which Elena assured him with hand signals that she would be perfectly okay) Stefan had grabbed Matt and hauled him to the surface and out of the lake. Elena remembers feeling swamped with panic when her seatbelt refused to unclick, and then…

And then nothing.

_Maybe Stefan came back for me in time_, she thinks optimistically. _Maybe he laid me out on this slab and went to get help for me and Matt._

That must be it. There's no other logical explanation. Here she is, awake and aware and _alive_. Elena has fallen into death's reach only to escape its clutches once again. She hopes she won't have to risk it a third time.

Elena shakes her head, a smile spreading across her lips. She's acutely aware of the wildlife surrounding her (or as close to wildlife as Mystic Falls can get). The many white and red and yellow and orange flowers that appear in clusters around her are sagging, as if they are lacking moisture, even though they are right on the bank of the lake. The sky overhead is graying, and Elena somehow knows that it is only a few minutes past sunset. Shadows are everywhere: behind trees and next to bushes and under the bridge and all around her. The night air smells faintly of mildew.

Elena jumps off the concrete slab with a startled exclamation. Again, she moves with no discernible motion. She had merely _thought_ about jumping and then appeared on the ground several feet away. No exertion, no bunching muscles, nothing. She had just been there and now here.

Dread creeps into her heart. Elena doesn't know what all this means, but she knows it can't in any way be good. There's something ominous happening. After all, where is Matt? And where in the world is Stefan? He's a _vampire_, for Pete's sake! He should be back already. Not to mention that he would never normally leave her in a strange situation such as this.

"That's odd," she mutters to herself, touching her wrist. The skin there is cold. In fact, her entire arm is icy. And so are her hands, and feet, and even her legs. Elena swallows audibly. Why is she freezing? It's still only August, and the temperature usually hovers around seventy at night. She sighs, blocking out her increasingly frenzied thoughts, and scans the surrounding area.

And that's when it happens.

Lightning fast, quicker than the speed of light. Elena's nose catches a scent, a surprisingly _delicious_ scent, to her right. She can't specify the exact location, but she knows the smell is exuding somewhere in that general vicinity. So she bolts forward, searching, studying, yearning for that scent that smells like flowers and candy and spicy seasoning and coffee and pastries all at the same time. The trees whip past, the grass barely seems to bend as she moves over the landscape…and then she sees him.

A man.

He can't be older than twenty, maybe twenty-five at the most. A baseball cap is perched on his head, and his clothes are slightly rumpled, though Elena can tell they are clean. She detects what smells like apple-kiwi laundry detergent. His shoes are a gleaming white, and the Nike symbol is etched on the side. He is strolling down the sidewalk, nodding his head to the music that emits from his iPod. Elena can hear the energetic bass of a popular rock song pumping through the tiny headphones. She takes a nanosecond to wonder how that is even possible from this distance.

But then the smell overwhelms her again, and she is no longer capable of coherent thought.

Elena darts forward without thinking and finds herself planted directly in the jogger's path. He blinks, nearly runs into her, and then seems to recoil, the motion barely noticeable to anyone who isn't suddenly aware of everything like Elena is. His mouth drops open.

"I – I don't – who," he stammers, clutching his iPod to his side and hastily turning down the obnoxiously loud volume.

"Hello," she purrs, her eyes glued to his neck.

"Who are you?" the man manages to splutter. "How did you get here?"

"What do you mean?" Elena's head cocks to the side, her expression bordering on puzzled.

"You just…you just like, appeared here," he says, disbelieving. "I was walking along…and here you are."

"Here I am," she repeats in a sing-song voice, as if she's mocking him.

His eyes narrow. "It's awfully late for someone so young to be out here alone. You know, this _is_ Mystic Falls, after all. Maybe you should go home."

Elena smirks, and a tiny voice in the back of her mind squeaks, "_What do you think you're doing? You're acting like this is an innocent game of cat-and-mouse, Elena! Get out of there_!"

But a larger part of her is screaming for her to step forward and trail her finger down the side of his neck, where she can see his pulse hammering. His heart is thundering almost as loud as his music was a minute ago. Without being aware of what she's doing, Elena touches his silky smooth skin, and her whole body shudders.

Again, the man recoils, this time much more obviously. "What do you think you're doing?"

Elena doesn't reply. Instead, her hand squeezes his neck, choking off his startled protest. The skin beneath her eyes turns vein-y and black, and the look in her eyes is no longer innocent or pleasant. It is downright monstrous and (more than anything else) _hungry_. A deep growl sounds in the back of her throat. A predatory growl. Two little…_somethings_…shoot out of her gums, digging deep into the skin of her lips. But Elena pays no mind to that.

"Shh," she says softly, and lunges.

* * *

**Was it the worst thing you've ever read? I certainly hope not. Tell me what you think, and thanks for reading!**


	2. The Hunt

Matt has suffered extensively. In his mind, at least, he has reached his limit.

Maybe it's only his imagination, but Matt believes that he has suffered more than he wants to admit in the past year, give or take a few months. He is always in some kind of unbearable pain. Always worried about what might happen next. Always volunteering to go on vampire reconnaissance missions that usually have absolutely _nothing_ to do with him. Always helping to plan surprise attacks on that psychopath, Klaus. Always trying to ignore the indecipherable looks Rebekah throws his way. Always protecting Elena and Bonnie and Caroline. Always willingly letting others drink his blood when they ask for it…and sometimes when they don't.

There's something seriously messed up about that last one.

He's always doing for others, and usually risking his life in the process. But this time…this time everything has gone too far, too fast.

Back on the bridge, he had only allowed himself a moment to stare at Rebekah, who had been standing in the middle of the road for pretty much _no reason at all_, before he had yanked on the steering wheel, making his truck veer wildly to the left. Elena screamed, but Matt had been too shocked to make any noise. Into the lake they'd dropped, and at that point, his awareness had ceased.

He had woken up only once, briefly. Somehow, he had been hidden inside a cocoon of dense, overgrown bushes. Maybe he had crawled there while he was semi-conscious. _On_ _second thought_, he remembers thinking groggily, _Stefan probably placed me here so that people driving by on the bridge won't be alarmed_. He blinked several times and turned his head sideways.

Through a thin patch of leaves, he could see that Stefan was leaning over someone who was lying flat on a giant tomb. At least that's what it had looked like to Matt. Then Stefan had shifted, and he caught a glimpse of the motionless person's face: Elena. With sudden intuition, Matt knew that she had passed away. She was gone, no longer with them. Dead.

He had gasped like a dying fish, and the noise had jerked Stefan around.

"Is she…?"

Stefan nodded, peering through the foliage. "Yes," he managed to choke out, tears streaming down his pale cheeks.

Matt's heart had plummeted. "Thank you," he whispered, and passed out. He had meant, "Thank you for telling me," and, "Thank you for saving my life." But at the time, those words had been too difficult to articulate, and so his mind had drifted away for a while.

Now Matt awakes a second time, and he knows that he will be able to stay awake this time, at least for a while. Swallowing (and wincing at the dryness in his throat) he shifts and pulls himself up so that he is sitting. There is a sharp pain in his side, and his right leg is partially numb. He figures he has some broken bones, but compared to what happened to Elena…well, this is nothing.

Elena. Matt closes his eyes as a wave of agony washes over him. She's never coming back. He will never see her smile again, or hear her laugh, or roll his eyes when she teases him, or groan in mock agony whenever she comes close to driving him crazy. Never again. Dead at eighteen.

He holds back the flood of tears.

"What the…" he says suddenly, peering over the row of low bushes. He can't see Stefan, which is weird. He doesn't really know how long he has been out, but it has seemed like quite a while, maybe even a few hours. The vampire should have been back by now. Where is he?

And then Matt looks the opposite way, but only for a second. He really doesn't want to see Elena's empty, cooling body, but he has to confirm that she really is gone for good. Otherwise, the possibilities will haunt him. His eyes graze over the tomb-like bed, continue absently to the far left, then shoot back to the bed.

There's nothing on it.

Elena is gone.

* * *

She hides between two Dumpsters. The space is only about four feet wide, and the lighting from the streetlamps is dim, but Elena can see as clearly as if it is the middle of a bright, sunny day. She doesn't feel particularly squished or claustrophobic. She knows that what she has done – no, what she is _doing_ – is bad, horrible even, but she feels no regret.

Only hunger.

Blood coats her soft hands, making them slick and red. Her mouth is covered with the substance, and so is her chin, but she doesn't mind. That's the least of her worries. The late-night jogger is just out of her line of sight, off to the side, though clearly in view of anyone who might happen to pass by on the road.

Elena isn't really sure what she should do with him. He isn't too heavy for her to carry, of course, but she honestly can't hold him for long without sucking up the blood, which happens to be spurting from his neck. She has already tried to ignore the unnatural desire, and failed. That's why Elena has left him in plain sight – so that, on the off chance that someone comes across the dying man, they will be able to help. The wound on his neck is large, gaping, _tantalizing_. She had only meant to taste him, but instead she has accidently drained him. From her cramped position, she can't hear a heartbeat.

All is silent.

She tries to wipe her bloody hands on her clothes, but she only succeeds in smearing them with even more. Her jeans and long-sleeved shirt are soaked. The smell is intoxicating, but Elena resists. She has satisfied the craving. For a little while.

Elena wonders what she is supposed to do. Not with the body (that issue will have to be filed away and stamped with UNRESOLVED for now) but with herself. She can't go home. Surely Jeremy has already been informed of her death. That means so has Caroline, Bonnie, Tyler, Damon, and Stefan. Obviously Stefan, considering he had been the one to find her body. She knows Matt is okay. Stefan had brought him to safety first, and she trusts that Stefan made sure he was okay.

So where can she go?

Elena slowly slides up the brick wall, peering cautiously over the Dumpster. There. She can see the man's limp arm, which is flung away from his body, as if reaching for help. _Too late for that, buddy_, she thinks ruefully.

Her throat clenches as she steps forward and his body comes into view. He looks so…_delicious_, like a three-tiered double chocolate cake with vanilla icing, chocolate sprinkles, and M&M's. Actually, the thought of an actual cake disgusts Elena, but the comparison is more-or-less accurate. She prefers blood to chocolate, to _anything_, and that's how it will always be.

Forever.

The thought disturbs Elena. She will never again desire human food. She will never have to go to the bathroom, or worry about getting enough to eat or drink, or even have to focus on holding her breath underwater. Elena doesn't have to breathe now. She can do virtually anything and survive. She is immune! She is immortal!

She is a vampire.

This concept momentarily astounds her, and Elena stops, staring blankly at the dead man sprawled before her. Brown-haired, brown-eyed, eighteen year old Elena Gilbert is a vampire. She can move at the speed of light. Faster, even. She can see and hear and taste and feel far better than she ever could as a human. Everything is magnified a hundred-fold. She is super-strong, and her body will never age. Elena will forever be stuck in an eighteen-year-old body while her mind encompasses centuries of knowledge.

The thought both terrifies and thrills her.

"I'm a vampire," she says aloud, reveling in the sound of her clear voice. "_I'm a vampire_!"

Licking her lips, she approaches the dead man, whose blood still calls to her. She crouches down by his side and presses her palm to the unrelenting flow of blood. Deep inside her chest, she purrs like a contented cat.

"I'm a vampire," Elena repeats in a whisper, "and I'm still hungry."

Her fangs reappear, and she lowers her head.


	3. Searching

Stefan left Matt and his dearly departed Elena back by the lake while he went for help. The accident had unfortunately occurred miles from Mystic Fall's local hospital, and none of their phones worked after being dunked into the lake, so Stefan made a split second decision in which he decided to run for assistance.

He knows, deep down, that it is too late for Elena. Her heart had already stopped beating by the time he hauled her out of Matt's truck. He had lain her gently down on an enormous cement altar a few dozen feet from the edge of the water. Her beautiful brown hair had dripped with lake water, her skin had already started cooling, and her usually expressive face had remained stony and indifferent. The life had drained out of her, leaving behind a world of pain and heartache for Stefan.

He blames this tragic event on Rebekah and Alaric. In all honesty, he has considered hunting them both down and killing them mercilessly. It's Rebekah's fault for jumping out in front of Matt's truck, and Alaric's fault for threatening to kill one of the Original bloodline, therefore keeping him occupied and away from Elena. If only he had been there…nothing like this would have _ever_ happened. Of that, he is more than certain.

His pain is so great, he can barely focus. Images and sounds blend and swirl and zigzag, making Stefan dizzy and disoriented. His emotions are careening out of control, and he fears what he might do should he encounter a defenseless human.

But, based on the situation he now finds himself in, that seems unlikely.

Rebekah had appeared to Stefan before he could reach the hospital. She had taunted him, made pitying expressions and mocking apologies, knowing that when she sped off, he wouldn't be too far behind. Sure enough, Stefan followed at light speed. She led him to an abandoned warehouse, where she continued to taunt and ridicule him from unseen crevices inside the cavernous building.

Stefan's rage had been so great upon first seeing Rebekah that logic and rational thought had failed to make him really _see_. He hadn't been able to see that Rebekah's taunts are only half-hearted. Her countenance expresses sorrowful guilt for the crime she has committed. He hadn't been able to see that alerting the paramedics is a lot more important than chasing down Klaus's evil sister. And he hadn't been able to see or sense that something is going on with Elena.

As he searches inside deep piles of rubble and behind giant wooden planks, Stefan senses a different awareness in his mind. It hadn't been there a few minutes before, but now it is seemingly everywhere. This awareness is clear, sharp, and vicious. He wonders where it's coming from.

Then it hits him: Elena! She's awake!

As improbable as it seems, Stefan knows it must be true. He can't accept any other explanation. He won't be able to live anymore if she is truly gone. The pain will be too much for him to handle.

Without a word, Stefan runs out of the warehouse as fast as his vampiric speed allows, leaving a startled Rebekah in his wake. Seconds later, he skids to a halt by the lake, only inches from the altar. He blinks, and his mind is unusually slow in figuring out that the cement slab is empty and bare.

A voice suddenly speaks from behind him: "She's gone, Stefan. She's gone."

Stefan turns around and is met with the sight of Matt's terrified and unbearably sad eyes. There's also a hint of rage in them, but it's very faint.

"Where?"

Matt shakes his head. "I thought maybe you had her. You know, took her to the cemetery…" His voice trails off, and he bows his head, shaking.

"I didn't take her, Matt." Stefan is oddly calm. "Did you see anyone else while I was gone?"

"Anyone else?" he asks, looking back up at the vampire questioningly. "No. Why would…" He gasps, his eyes bugging out. "You don't think someone _took_ her, do you?"

"That's exactly what I think, Matt," he says in a hard voice.

"No, man," Matt says, shaking his head vigorously and looking angrier by the second. "I only woke up about fifteen minutes ago, but I haven't seen anyone. Who would do this?"

"I think we should find out," he replies.

Scenting the air and listening to the many night noises that echo around the lake, Stefan holds back his fury. Whoever has taken his Elena will be tortured and killed. No one has any right to touch her, let alone take her away from him. Her soul must have drifted away by now, but the part that's still here is defenseless and vulnerable. If someone has defiled her body in any way…

A red haze descends over Stefan's field of vision just as a soft and familiar, yet abnormally solemn voice speaks from inside his head:

"_Hello, brother. I think we might have a slight problem on our hands_."

Stefan listens intently, gazing off into space, as Damon explains.

* * *

Elena licks the blood off her hands, savoring every drop. It's like wine, an expensive vintage of the most delectable wine on earth. She can drink it all day, every day. It's a wonder Stefan and Damon and Caroline have managed to fight off these urges for so long, and so successfully, too.

Thinking about Damon makes her pause. Only seconds before the horrible crash that killed her, she had told him by way of phone that Stefan's the one for her. She finally made her choice…and she hadn't chosen Damon. She knows that choosing one brother will ultimately result in losing the other. This pains her greatly, but Elena expressed her true feelings anyway, thereby breaking Damon's heart.

Now she starts to wonder if what she's done is right.

Because now she remembers.

Damon is actually the first Salvatore brother she encountered in Mystic Falls, not Stefan. He talked with her in the middle of an empty road, just a few hundred feet from a late-night party, about what she wanted from her life. She remembers feeling strangely at home around Damon, although at the time, she hadn't even known his name.

Then he made her forget everything (for her safety, no doubt), and she had gotten into her parents' car, clueless of the mysterious man she had been talking with seconds ago, and nearly died when the car tumbled off the bridge and into the lake. Damon and Elena had met only ten minutes before Stefan saw her inside the submerged car. He instantly became obsessed with knowing who she was.

And that's when it had all begun.

Elena frowns. Stefan or Damon, Damon or Stefan. The choice is entirely hers; she's known that for a while. But it's so difficult when she wants them both _so much_. They both mean the world to her, and her being human only made things infinitely more complicated. Of course, now she's no longer fragile and easily breakable. Elena's a vampire, a strong, ferocious, bloodthirsty vampire who can probably take on werewolves and most any other supernatural creature. Will the Salvatore brothers look at her differently? Will she look at _them_ differently?

So many questions, and next to no answers.

Elena's head snaps to the right. Although she has been concentrating on her thoughts and actions and the new future that awaits her, she's still keenly aware of her surroundings. And she has just heard a twig snap somewhere nearby. Two hundred, maybe three hundred feet away. Across the parking lot and narrow side-street. Whatever has made the noise is now hidden in shadow.

She narrows her eyes, calculating, then quickly flicks a glance at the blood-smeared body on the ground before retreating into her small, confined area between the two Dumpsters. The smell exuding from the bins is close to intolerable, but Elena only has to focus on the taste of blood to wash away the nasty stench.

Elena's ears perk, and she listens intently. Something else. There's something else out there. _A human?_ she thinks with undisguised glee. But no. This unknown being doesn't sound clumsy or unconcerned. They are stealth-like, making a concentrated effort to remain invisible. Maybe they are hunting, too.

Elena huddles into herself. Despite her new physical prowess, she knows she's still technically a baby. Young, impressionable, and somewhat weak compared to vampires who have lived for centuries. Vampires like Klaus and Elijah and Katherine.

A minute passes, and she hears nothing. She's just beginning to think that the hunter has moved on when there's a sudden explosion of noise. Two, three, maybe four voices, all babbling at once. Hysterical, chaotic. The voices express fear and concern and worry and horror. Familiar voices.

"Oh, no, oh, God," a high-pitched, obviously feminine voice squeaks. "This is not happening right now. I can't believe she –"

"Stop it, Caroline," a deeper, male voice says. "You know she's new at this. She doesn't know her own strength yet."

"So that makes it perfectly okay for her to go around ripping people's throats out. I see." This voice is also male, but amused and mocking instead of calm and restrained.

Elena knows at once what's going on. Caroline, her best friend Caroline, and two others whom she cannot immediately place have found the dead jogger man. That's not good. She wants to snack on him some more, but that's definitely out of the question now.

Also, Elena feels uncomfortable with the way Caroline's talking about her, as if she's a wild animal. But she _isn't_ an animal! Caroline knows that. Elena's a vampire, through-and-through, and vampires need to be fed. Caroline knows that, too.

Someone sniffs loudly. "Well, we know she can't be far now. This one's pretty fresh."

"Great, Damon. I'm glad you're taking this so lightly. Haven't you even considered that she might have already killed someone else? Or maybe two people. Did that occur to you?"

Elena's head snaps up, and her heart fills with pleasure. Now she recognizes the two male voices. Damon is here! He's come looking for her. But that also means Stefan's with him. Elena doesn't know how she feels about that. Conflicted, definitely. She loves Stefan, but she loves Damon, too.

Maybe more?

"Okay, Stefan, you have a point, but yelling at your brother isn't going to get us any closer to finding Elena." Caroline sighs. "Where could she possibly –"

Then there's the sharp sound of shoes slapping against the pavement, crossing the parking lot quickly. Not at vampire speed, but close. They grow closer and closer to where Elena sits, knees pulled up, hands tucked against her chest, blood dripping from her mouth and chin and cheeks. Her clothes are ruined and even her hair is disheveled. From her feeding frenzy, no doubt.

Her eyes widen. She can see shoes now, expensive Italian-made shoes, striding around the Dumpster. If she still had a heart, it would be pounding. If she was still able to sweat, the palms of her hands would be slicked with perspiration. The fancy shoes stop, and a shadow falls over Elena.

"Oh, God," the owner of the Italian shoes says.

It's Stefan.

A split-second later, Damon's there, coming to an unhurried stop, and then so is Caroline, who has to stand on the tips of her toes to see over their shoulders. She gasps, and her face goes even paler than normal.

Elena licks her lips, shakes violently, but doesn't say anything.

"Elena?" Stefan says softly. "Are you okay, sweetheart?"

She doesn't like this. No, she doesn't like this at all. They are surrounding her, blocking her only exit. She feels hounded, imprisoned. They are also looking at her like they are a little afraid, especially Caroline. Stefan gazes at her pityingly, which she despises, and Damon…well, she can't really tell what Damon's thinking. As usual.

"She's obviously not okay, Stefan," Caroline snaps impatiently, and shoves the Salvatore brothers aside. "She needs a friend right now." Leaning in close, her blonde-haired, green-eyed companion says quietly, "Hey, Elena. We've been searching all over for you. You need to come with us, okay?"

When Elena only stares blankly at her, she says, a little louder, "Elena, this isn't good. You need to be kept safe for a while. Not to mention you could use a change of clothes…" Her voice trails off, and she reaches out a hand.

Elena immediately knows what she's doing. Caroline is going to wipe the blood away and take it for herself. She's going to drink all of the jogger's blood, the blood that belongs to _Elena_. But Caroline apparently doesn't care. That's not fair, and Elena won't stand for it. They are both vampires now, and so Caroline no longer has the advantage.

Without strictly realizing what she's doing, Elena stands up so fast she blurs, puts her hands on Caroline's chest, and shoves her with all her might. Her best friend goes flying through the air, across the parking lot, over another street, and finally crashes into an enormous plate-glass window four hundred feet away.

Elena snarls, the sound loud and shocking in the silent, peaceful night, and takes an offensive stance. Her eyes immediately turn black and angry, depthless and monstrous, and the skin around them turns gray and dead.

When Elena jumped up, quick as lightning, Damon and Stefan immediately sped back two dozen feet, out of the way. They both have extensive experience with newborn vampires, and they know how feral and unpredictable they can be. Elena is no exception.

From far away, Caroline cries out.

Seething, Elena shouts in response, "_It's not my fault! I was hungry, okay_?"

Then the rage vanishes, seeping out of her like water out of a popped water balloon, and she becomes filled with such sadness, such complete grief, that she begins sobbing without warning. It takes her a moment to realize what she's feeling, but even when she does, she can't stop the flow of tears.

"_I was hungry_," she sobs, repeating herself, and then, "_I still am_!"

This breaks her completely. Knowing that, even after drinking all that blood, gallons and gallons of it, she's actually _still_ craving the substance, is horrifying. Elena collapses, her sobs ringing down the trash-strewn streets and into the shallow forest on the other side of the road.

"_I'm still hungry_!" she half-screams, half-sobs.

An instant later, strong arms encircle Elena, cradling her, protecting her. She doesn't know who it is, and she doesn't _want_ to know, so instead of looking up, she leans into him, accepting that she's out-of-control and requires some support.

"I'm sorry," he says, so softly Elena might not have heard him if she did not have acute hearing.

Elena nods her understanding, but she still sobs, still clutches him, still wishes for an easier life.

Some tense words are exchanged, and she thinks she hears Caroline return, but Elena doesn't want to listen to what they have to say. She wants to escape from the pain in her throat, the pain that will only be satisfied by drinking fresh blood. Although she's aware that sleep is no longer necessary, Elena begins to drift away from the smelly Dumpsters and the worried brothers and the furious Caroline and the dead body.

Elena closes her eyes, and a second later, she feels herself being lifted. She snuggles into whichever brother has gotten to her first, and falls into a dream where buckets of blood pour from the sky.

* * *

** Well?**


	4. Decisions

"Tea," Damon says, pushing the mug at Elena. He isn't merely offering it to her, and Elena knows it.

She reluctantly accepts the cup, wrinkling her nose as she catches a whiff of its contents. "What is this?"

"I just told you," he says with an exaggerated eye roll. Throwing some decorative pillows onto a nearby chair, he sits down next to her on the plush, velvet sofa in his monstrously large living room.

"I know _that_. I mean, what flavor is it?"

He shrugs. "Like I know. Stefan's the one who buys this stuff."

"Well, it smells like a dead skunk."

"Just drink it, Princess. I don't feel like arguing right now."

Elena shoots him a glare, but holds the cup of tea to her mouth. She nearly spits it back out after she takes a delicate sip, but she has just taken a shower and doesn't want to risk dirtying herself again. The jogger's AB negative blood is gone from her hair, clothes, and face, and she no longer feels tense, like a coil wound too tight. She finally feels satisfyingly full, although it took quite a long time for her brain to realize it. If Damon and the others had been even a minute later, Elena's body would have rejected the copious amounts of blood she ingested, and it would have come spewing back out.

Elena is so very thankful she's been spared _that_ humiliation.

They have taken her to the Salvatore's gigantic mansion. Stefan's in the kitchen, talking with Caroline and Bonnie, who hasn't seen Elena in her vampire form…yet. They're discussing what to do with her and whether or not they should tell Jeremy.

According to Caroline, they have already disposed of the dead body. Elena is conflicted about that. She knows she should be happy that the issue is out of her hands, though she can't help but feel like everyone else is _yet again_ trying to control her. Even as a vampire, it seems like Elena has virtually no say in what's happening to her. Everyone's still shielding and protecting her against the many dangers that reside in Mystic Falls.

Making a face, she finally shoves the cup back at Damon. "Take it," she hisses through gritted teeth. "Just take it, please. Before I puke."

Sighing, Damon places the coffee mug on an elegant side table. "Hey, I'm not the one who wants you to drink it. Stefan believes it will calm you down, help you focus."

"Do I look focused?"

He eyes her slowly. "Not exactly."

Elena looks straight ahead, her expression stony. "I thought so."

She awakened an hour ago from her comatose state to find Damon hovering over her. He's the one who carried her back to Mystic Falls, and he's also the one who laid her gently down on their living room sofa. Damon argued against restraining her, which Stefan had honestly considered. And he had watched over her with unwavering attention as she slept.

The fact that Damon had done all of this _for her_ unsettles her greatly. Elena knows that she finally chose Stefan in her last human moments, but now her feelings towards her so-called boyfriend are less than favorable. She feels indebted to Damon, and (if she's going to be perfectly honest) she would rather have him by her side. Is that awful? Elena hopes it isn't, though deep down she figures it probably is.

Too bad.

A despairing thought suddenly presents itself to Elena. "I can't go outside, can I?"

Damon raises a sarcastic eyebrow. "Why not?"

She frowns. "I don't have one of your rings. The ones that protect you from the sun."

"Are you sure?"

Confused, Elena follows his pointed stare down to her lap. She gasps. On her ring finger is a small circular band encrusted with diamonds and tiny sapphires.

"How –"

"I slid it on while you were zonked out," he says, smirking. "Now you can go anywhere you want."

Elena's smile is instant. "Thanks, Damon."

The amusement fades from his eyes, and he reaches forward, lightly trailing a finger down her cold cheek. "Anything for you, Elena."

After a breathless moment, she glances down, making a fruitless attempt at masking her emotions. She can hear Damon take in a slow and steady breath, then release it in a rush.

"But then, you already knew that," he murmurs quietly.

Elena swallows, nearly overcome with emotion.

Stefan conveniently chooses that moment to enter the living room, Caroline close behind him. Bonnie lingers in the background, worry lines creasing her forehead. She won't make direct eye contact with Elena, and that makes her uneasy. She's obviously still…_Elena_. Same personality, same views, same (though _very_ slightly altered) appearance. Bonnie must understand that. Right?

"We've decided to keep your transformation secret," Stefan says without preamble. "Damon, Caroline, Bonnie, and I will be the only ones who know about this, at least until we figure out a more definite plan."

Elena, knowing how argumentative and frustrating Stefan can be when he commits himself to an idea, nods tiredly.

Damon, however, glares indignantly at his older brother. "What about Jeremy? I think he deserves to know what's happened to his sister. She's his only family."

She eyes the handsome vampire slouching on the couch beside her. Since when does Damon care about anyone aside from himself? He usually looks out for number one. Though she has to admit, she wants to know where he's going with this, so she remains silent and casts her gaze over to Stefan.

"Jeremy will have to be kept in the dark. For now, anyway." The look in her boyfriend's eyes makes it obvious why he believes this: Elena might try to harm her vulnerable human brother.

Damon arches an elegant eyebrow. "He's been through a lot, Stefan. I think he he would appreciate being kept in the loop after all he's done for us."

"Which is?" Stefan asks, looking doubtful.

When Damon refuses to answer, Caroline says slowly, "I can't believe I'm going to say this, but what Damon's saying is…true. Jeremy has been through hell with the lot of us. He would know to be careful around Elena."

Stefan shrugs, not easily persuaded. "Humans and vampires have very different views on "being careful". You all know that. For humans it means trying not to rouse attention or alarm. For vampires it means trying not to get caught while draining fresh meals. I doubt Elena will be able to handle herself for long. The temptation is too great for inexperienced, newborn vampires."

Elena stiffens. Stefan's definitely treating her like an invalid, a dumb, useless, totally incapable invalid. She's been around vampires long enough to understand how to act, how to deal with situations, and how to ignore the omnipresent thirst for blood (or at least to some extent).

"I would never hurt Jer, Stefan. You know that," she says reproachfully.

Damon puts a gentle but firm hand on Elena's arm. She no longer flinches when their skin comes into contact; they're the same temperature now. This fact is still startling.

"C'mon, Stefan. Help out your girl," he says sardonically, a dark glint shading his previously indifferent eyes.

Stefan sighs, turns to look at Bonnie, and then says, "Fine. We can tell Jeremy. But no one else. That's as far as I'm willing to go. One extra person."

Elena nods vigorously, overwhelmed with happiness. She turns to see Damon watching her, a slight smile highlighting his lips. She returns his smile, her chocolate eyes glowing.

"You didn't have to –" she starts once they're alone again.

He shakes his head. "But I did. Jeremy's in this now, whether he wants to be or not. Besides," he adds, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, "I hate when you're unhappy and pouting."

She holds back a smile and rolls her eyes. "I don't pout anymore, Damon. I'm a vicious vampire now, remember? No more feelings."

"Sure you are," he drawls, exaggerating the words. A brilliant light pops into his eyes, and Elena stares at him, transfixed. She can imagine her undead heart thumping. His intention clear, he pulls her towards him.

Giggling, Elena pretends to swat his hands away. She succeeds in avoiding his grasp…_and_ in pushing him off the couch and across the room. Damon reacts swiftly, however, landing on the balls of his feet after hitting the wall with bone-crushing force. Elena's hand automatically flies to her mouth.

"Oh, God," she says shrilly, "I completely forgot that –"

"It's fine, it's fine," he cuts in, straightening his usually impeccable black shirt. Now the material is speckled with bits of dust. "As Stefan so crudely put it, you don't know your own strength yet."

"I'm just not used to it," she agrees. "Before, I could barely punch a vampire without breaking my hand. Now I can throw one clear across the room." A broad grin stretches across her face as a new realization strikes. "I don't need you guys to protect me anymore."

"You certainly don't." Damon watches as she marvels at the smooth flawlessness of her pale hands. Her eyes spark, and he detects a hint of mischievousness deep inside them. "But," he continues cautiously, "you can't go around town throwing trees or messing with people, okay? We need to keep this –"

She's already gone, the front door hanging open in her wake.

Damon sighs gustily and addresses the empty room. "Yeah. We're going to have our hands full."


	5. The Grill

Elena stands in a darkened hallway, observing the crowd inside Mystic Falls' very own bar and grill. She remembers the good 'ole days, back when she had no idea vampires or werewolves or any supernatural creature existed. Her friends used to gather at The Grill after school to talk and laugh and (every once in a while) do some homework. But mostly they chatted and gossiped and played pool. Matt would tease Elena while Bonnie and Caroline flirted with a tableful of guys across the room. Sometimes Tyler would make an appearance and team up with Matt at the pool table. The girls often lost; their attention was usually directed elsewhere.

Elena swallows back a feeling of intense longing. It feels almost like homesickness. She misses those days. Life was simple back then, simple and clear. Everyone had an idea of what they would do once they graduated from high school. Some ideas were grandiose, but most were surprisingly realistic. Elena had already made plans to stay in Mystic Falls, to look out for her brother while managing a career and stable home life.

Those dreams have shattered like a thin layer of glass. The pieces are broken into miniscule shards, and there are millions of them scattered everywhere she turns. They will never be put back together.

This is Elena's life now. Hiding in dark, inconspicuous corners. Shielding herself from the harsh rays of sunlight that tickle her skin despite her protective ring. Watching her human friends grow in maturity and age in appearance. She's nothing more than a casual observer now, looking in from the outside.

Forever.

She bites back a tremulous sigh. Her emotions are getting the best of her, and she can't let that happen, not when losing control means going on a killing rampage. Damon had teased Stefan time and again about how he's too sensitive when it comes to human problems. He demanded that Stefan shut down his emotions, make himself unfeeling and cold and indifferent.

Given the chance, Elena would extinguish her feelings in a heartbeat.

A tiny bell hanging over The Grill's front door trills, and Elena glances over. It takes less than a millisecond for her to see who it is, and even less time for her to tense. Damon. Of course he came looking for her. _About time_, she thinks with a tinge of anger. It has almost been an hour since she recklessly raced from the Salvatore mansion, intent on creating and spreading chaos.

But between Elena's escape an hour ago and her slumped position now in The Grill, something in her has changed. She no longer feels optimistic and superior and high with excitement. Loneliness swamps her undead heart, and her mind is weighed down with depression. This sadness has shoved her happiness away and filled that empty space with dread and despair and bitterness. The positive light inside her has been extinguished.

Everything these people possess – the people eating and chatting and laughing away like her and her friends had done a year ago – is unattainable, out of her reach.

Elena is fast and strong and she can finally use compulsion…but she is still dead.

"Someone's unhappy," a male voice sings.

Damon sidles next to her, drink in hand. He's watching the room, but his eyes aren't really seeing the bar or the people or the pool table or the booths or even the food. No, they're seeing something infinity more precious. Something that makes him protective and, in a way, soft.

Elena snorts. "That's the understatement of the century, Damon."

"Is it? I can think of plenty other times –"

"Shut up, you know what I mean." Elena grits her teeth. Stefan's snarky brother never misses an opportunity to talk about his centuries of unique knowledge. He loves being older and better and smarter than everyone around him…and he loves letting others know it, too. That's what makes him cocky and intolerably confident. Although she will never admit it, Elena loves that about him.

Right now, however, she's not in the mood for Damon's witticism.

"Okay, okay," he says, throwing up his one free hand. "Just trying to lighten the mood."

"Well, it's not working." Elena huffs and turns slightly away from him. "Maybe you should go find someone else to bother."

"But I like it over here."

"I don't know why you would," she mutters, and walks to the far side of the room, keeping her head bent so that no one will recognize her. She makes sure she walks where the shadows are deepest.

Elena's mood is foul. She plops into a booth that's mostly hidden in shadow. It's only half an hour until closing time, so most of The Grill's patrons are trickling out the doors. She wouldn't normally risk making an appearance so soon after her death (which occurred not three hours ago), but she can't bear to just sit somewhere and try to ignore the horrible, aching itch in her throat. She needs distractions, other people, unfamiliar sights and sounds and smells.

She needs a drink.

As the bartender grabs an alcohol-stained towel and heads for the bathroom, Elena zips out of the booth and around the bar. She has a clean glass in her hand within seconds. Her gaze shifts back and forth between a bottle of Norman's Ultra Potent Tequila and Wild Evergreen Whiskey. After a brief moment of indecision, she grabs the neck of the rotund whiskey bottle and pours the smooth liquid into her glass. Even though she no longer requires food or beverages, Elena figures she can still take pleasure in drinking, mostly because it will make her feel just the slightest bit dangerous.

She downs the first glassful of whiskey and immediately pours a second. Turning from the bar, her hand already raising the frosty glass to her lips, she notices Damon watching her from across the room. She waves with her free hand and suppresses a rueful smile. _Maybe we can be drinking buddies now_, _if nothing else_, she thinks sarcastically. _I'm sure being a vampire has its advantages. No hangovers_!

Keeping her eyes on him, Elena hides her glass under the bar and zips away seconds before the bartender returns, pulling his apron over his head. She sits cross-legged in the otherwise empty booth, hoping maybe Jeremy or Caroline might find her. They will know how to make her feel better. But she also hopes, deep down, that Damon will come over and sit down for a while. He hadn't followed her when she left him behind in the darkened hallway ten minutes ago.

His seemingly careless attitude actually hurt, and Elena wonders if he really likes her at all. Maybe she's disillusioned. Maybe sticking with Stefan is the right decision. Maybe –

"Brooding again, I see," Damon says with a theatrical yawn. "Just like my brother. No wonder you two are so good for each other."

He appears without warning, making Elena jump half an inch. He pokes her arm good-naturedly, and, taking the cue, she scoots over in the booth. Sitting down beside her, so close that the material of their jeans rub together, Damon sighs and stretches his arms over the back of the booth. Fighting the embarrassing urge to giggle, Elena rolls her eyes.

"I wasn't brooding," she informs him haughtily, scanning the emptying room. All these people are probably heading back to sleep in their nice, cozy houses. She manages to push down her bitterness.

"Oh? Then what do you call gazing blankly into space and wearing a confused and slightly upset, not to mention tragic, expression?" Damon drinks from his glass, which magically seems to refill each time.

Elena shrugs, aiming for composure. "Thinking. It's called thinking. There's a lot on my mind, you know. Not everyone has it as easy as you." But of course she knows that's a lie.

"Is this going to turn into an Elena pity party? Because if it is, I think I might –"

She balls her right hand into a fist and hits him lightly on the chest. She does this without even being aware that her hand is moving. She's still careful not to put too much of her strength into it though. She doesn't want him flying across the room again. He might break bottles and tables and pictures if he does. That will draw too much unwanted attention, and Elena is so _not_ in the mood for that.

Damon grits his teeth, wincing, and says, "You really want to keep doing that, Princess?"

"If you insist on annoying me, yes."

Out of the corner of her eye, she can see him trying and failing to hold back a smile. "Annoying you? I thought I was entertaining."

She pretends to laugh. "Oh, that's exactly what you're doing, Damon. Entertaining me."

"I don't appreciate the sarcasm, but I'll take what I can get." Damon tilts his head and looks her in the eye. "Is it working? Am I entertaining you?"

Elena frowns, taken off-guard. "Well, I guess you could say –"

She doesn't have time to finish. His lips are on hers without warning. They're soft and wonderful and urgent. Elena's eyes shoot wide open. Without thinking, she presses herself against him. His impossibly strong arms wrap around her waist, pulling her halfway across his lap. She laughs, the joyful noise muffled against his tender lips.

Just as things are starting to get heated, Elena begins to pull back. But then a thought forces itself through her hazy, pleasure-filled mind, and she leans into Damon again, laughing silently. She doesn't need to pull away for air. She no longer needs to breathe.

They can kiss for eternity without stopping.

_And I think we will_, she thinks dreamily. _I think we will_.


	6. An Indecipherable Vision

_The rustling breeze that sweeps through the pine trees is eerily soft. It's a faint sort of sound, as if it's coming from a great distance. The breeze tickles hundreds upon hundreds of drooping green leaves, making them sway and twirl away from the thick branches sprouting from massive tree trunks. The night is calm, although there is an undertone, a dark, heavy undertone, of dread. There's something evil out there, beyond the trees and the leaves, beyond the shadows and the calm tranquility._

_ Something monstrous lurks. Something supernatural._

_ A flash of brown and white appears, disappears an instant later, and then pops up again a hundred yards away. It's quick, faster than the speed of light. Impossible maybe, but many things in Mystic Falls fit that description. Impossible, improbable, unnatural, unlikely. The brown and white thing – no, the brown and white _creature_ – suddenly darts forward, leaping high on a burst of strength, then crashes through the trees, stomping across fields and pastures of fresh green grass._

_ A black monster, all teeth and deadly claws, materializes next to the brown and white creature. Then another. Two more. Five. Maybe ten. They run together in a tight formation, flanking each other. They run as one, intent on reaching an unknown destination. Their target is just out of sight, but their ferocity is obvious, and that can only mean that whoever or whatever they are bounding toward is going to be slaughtered. Nothing stands against them, this deadly force united with one goal in mind: shedding blood._

_ High-pitched whines erupt from two of the creatures' muzzles as a lone figure finally comes into view. The outline is familiar, human. Broad shoulders, shaggy brown hair in need of a cut, loose clothing, lightly tanned skin…_

_ The pack howls together, eager to reach the human. They yearn to tear into his flesh, rip apart his bones, sink their teeth into his pulsing heart. Blood will run, then splatter, then eventually fade into the malleable earth._

_ Two dozen feet. A dozen. Then they are nearly upon him. They will pounce, snarl once, victorious, and then they will open their giant maws and –_

Elena's eyes fly open, her eyelids snapping up like window shades, and she breaks away from Damon, who seems to be enjoying their one-on-one time..to say the least. The vision pushed out all other thoughts, emotions, and desires, and completely took over without any problem whatsoever. Apparently her mind can be easily penetrated, and, she discovers, she feels very uncomfortable with that.

Since Damon's staring at her incredulously, probably wondering why she would voluntarily interrupt such a delicate moment, Elena figures only seconds must have passed since she leaned forward and allowed herself to be swept away by his beauty and mysteriousness. While he had been reveling in the taste of her lips and the smell of her hair, she had unwillingly watched a gruesome scene unfold inside her own mind.

"Something wrong, Princess? Have you suddenly remembered you have morals?"

He's being cocky (as usual) but Elena knows that he's offended and maybe even hurt on some level. Damon is tremendously egotistical, after all. Still, she feels guilty for her abruptness. After all, the strange and disturbing vision isn't Damon's fault.

"No, no," she says, rushing to get the words out. She doesn't want him to retreat inside himself like he always does when confronted with a close-to-heart issue. "I'm – I just – it's not something that's –"

He smirks, but his dark eyes have already closed her out. "No need to explain yourself, Elena. I get it. You're with Stefan. He's the one you want, not me, right?" He glances away, his impenetrable eyes roving blankly over The Grill's vacant tables and booths. The restaurant and bar will be closing in less than ten minutes, but neither of them seem to care.

Something twists inside her chest, and Elena has to resist the urge to wince. He used her real name – not a pet name or nickname or anything else –and that more than anything shows her just how upset he truly is. He will never admit it, though. Damon isn't the type to talk things out. He would rather get drunk first and drain a couple of young girls, and then maybe sleep with a couple more before moving on to bigger and better things.

But she doubts he will move on from this so easily.

"Listen to me –" she begins again, reaching out to touch his arm. He has severed contact without her even knowing.

He's out of the booth in an instant, appearing several feet away…at the bar, unsurprisingly. Leaning casually against the counter, he says sardonically, "Truth be told, I don't want to listen to anything right now, sweetheart. But if you want to start up where we stopped a few moments ago…"

"I do," she says desperately, worry unconsciously tingeing her voice. The scattered images she glimpsed in her vision are trying to recapture her attention, and Elena wonders if what she saw is actually _more_ than just a vision. "It's not you, okay? There's just…" She trails off, unsure.

Damon raises an eyebrow.

"I saw something," she blurts finally. "Inside my head."

"Oh?" His tone is skeptical, and not in a good way.

"Like a vision or something," she continues, heedless of his wary expression. She quickly relates what she has seen, and then adds, "There were lots of pine trees and some fields, too. I think the creatures I saw were a pack of rabid dogs, and they were about to…eat someone." The horror strikes her then. "They were going to attack and eat a human!"

It's obvious that this information interests Damon immensely. "Did you recognize the human?"

She thinks back, concentrating on the seemingly insignificant details. "Well, the body was definitely male. Broad shoulders, narrow hips, large hands. He seems familiar somehow, but I can't place my finger on whoever it is."

"A pack of dogs," Damon repeats, frowning.

The realization dawns on them simultaneously, and they both exclaim, with great shock, "Werewolves!"

They stare at each other, Elena's eyes shining with fear, Damon's expression morphing into one of cold calculation. Time slows as their vampire minds whirl with possible scenarios.

"So there's apparently a pack of rabid, bloodthirsty werewolves running around Mystic Falls," he says slowly, trying to puzzle out the facts. "There's a human, a male human, somewhere out there, and the werewolves are looking for him. Lucky for them, he's alone and therefore entirely vulnerable."

"Why would an entire pack be hunting for one human? Surely they don't think it will take much effort to kill him." Elena can't believe those words are coming so calmly out of her mouth. She's discussing this rationally, without much emotion. Now that she's a vampire, she's noticed that her feelings are somewhat disconnected from humans. She can't really relate to them anymore…and maybe that's for the best.

After all, she _isn't_ one anymore.

"That's just it. The human must be special in some way. Are you sure…" He hesitates, and she watches him with barely concealed puzzlement. Damon doesn't hesitate. It isn't in his nature. "Are you sure the person you saw was really human?" He casts a furtive, worried glance her way.

Elena blinks once in confusion, wondering what he means by "really human". But then it hits her: she didn't get a very clear glimpse of the human's skin. For all she knows, the mysterious man is actually a vampire. But that doesn't explain why Damon is throwing worried looks her way.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she demands, sliding out of the booth. She stretches her muscles, wishing she could go for a quick run, even at a time like this. Her vampiric nature demands she run, move, _stalk_.

"Werewolves and vampires hate each other. They always have. You know that."

"Of course I do. So what?"

"I said that the person they're searching for must hold _significant value_, or else the pack would have sent just a single werewolf to hunt them down."

When he refuses to say more, she prods slowly, "And what does that mean?"

"You're special, Elena, and everyone within a hundred miles of Mystic Falls knows that."

"Okay," she replies, nonplussed. "But the figure I saw was definitely male. In case you haven't noticed, I'm a girl, Damon."

He rolls his eyes, and she's relieved to see some of his usual smarminess returning. "I know that, Princess. But what you saw in your vision could easily have been an illusion."

She's unquestionably stunned. "So you're saying that the vision that just magically appeared in my head was altered somehow? Whatever supernatural force shoved it into my head put it there to confuse me?"

He shrugs and appraises a tall bottle of Dom Perignon sitting on the other side of the bar. "Maybe. Who knows for sure? This is just guesswork, after all."

Elena throws up her hands, her frustration boiling over. "Well, that's fantastic, Damon. While you're running through every possible scenario, I think I'm going to go find out where this _male_ is" – she gives him a pointed look – "so I can protect him."

Damon's at her side in a heartbeat, his hand gripping her elbow tightly. "Don't you get it, Elena? There could be multiple forces working against you. The vision could be a trap. The werewolves might be coming after _you._"

She snorts, but a seed of doubt has already sprouted in the very back of her mind. "Do you know how crazy you sound right now? Why would someone – or, okay, some_thing _– go to so much trouble to harm me?"

The vampire beside her remains silent for a full minute before saying softly, "Because you're very valuable, Elena. And people like to take – or in this case, _hurt_ – valuable things for their own selfish reasons."

"But _who_ would want to hurt me?" she asks in a tiny voice, frightened at the prospect of being made into a meal and ashamed at the needy whine in her voice. She knows the question is ludicrous, though she can't help but ask anyway. Just to be sure.

Confirming her suspicions, Damon glances away and says humorlessly, "You'd be surprised. Or maybe you wouldn't."

Immediately, names pop into her head: Elijah, Klaus, Rebekah, the rest of the Mikaelson family, Katherine, even other vampires who know her, though she doesn't necessarily know them. The list is obnoxiously long…so long, in fact, that it makes Elena feel momentarily sick to her stomach.

"You're right," she whispers, forcing down the bile rising in her throat. There are many people after her, human and…not so human. She has much to be afraid of, and even though she's no longer a vulnerable human, a vampire is nothing compared to a hungry pack of furious werewolves.

"We'll figure this out," Damon reassures smoothly, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

She nestles her head against his neck, knowing in the back of her mind that things are about to get out of control. But then, when aren't they? Mystic Falls is dangerous, but rarely is it full of surprises. Is it sad that she has actually gotten used to the strangeness that constantly plagues her hometown?

Probably.

Elena sighs, and together they leave The Grill.

* * *

**Ah, big revelations! Leave a comment please~ **


	7. The Figure Revealed

"It's not her the wolves want, Damon."

"How do you know?"

"She told you she saw a man," Stefan says slowly, "and Elena in no way resembles one. As for thinking the vision itself was merely an illusion…that's just ridiculous. Of course what she saw was real."

"Is it ridiculous, brother? Weirder things have happened. It wouldn't be a stretch to find out that this vision is a fabrication rather than a prediction of the future."

The two Salvatore brothers have been arguing for the better part of an hour. It's just past midnight, and Elena is exhausted. Not because her energy is spent (being a vampire, energy is all she has) but because she finds their conversation pointless and redundant. Elena's tired of talking; she wants action. Sitting and arguing the same points is getting them nowhere, and she has spent more than enough time in their living room for one day.

The fact that Damon keeps running his fingers lightly down her arm makes her feel significantly better though.

"I think we should –" she begins for the third time since reentering the Salvatore mansion.

Stefan, standing by a mahogany bookcase across the room, throws her a silencing look. "Elena, please. We're trying to decide how to keep you safe, and interrupting us will solve nothing."

"If you're trying to keep me safe, don't you think I should have a say in what happens?" Elena asks, furious at his belittling tone. "This is _my_ life we're talking about here, and I'm the one who had the vision, or don't you remember?" Her hands are clenched into tight little fists, and she's standing up, her body rigid and coiled to spring.

Damon, sitting on the couch beside her, is staring at her avidly, a curious gleam in his eyes. Stefan seems ready to tackle and restrain her before she can attack either of them…which, Elena realizes, she has been preparing to do. It scares her that she hasn't even been aware of her body springing upright, or that her mind is collecting and then discarding methods of attack. With a concentrated effort, she unclenches her fists and lowers herself back to the couch, fighting away her predatory thoughts.

Figuring she will get nowhere (and knowing that her anger might pop up unexpectedly at any moment) she crosses her legs and says serenely, with the grace of a queen, "Continue."

Damon can tell almost immediately that she's trying to control her emotions to the best of her ability, and he shifts slightly in her direction. Since they are both sitting on the same couch, the distance between them isn't far, and so he easily captures her hand, earning a penetrating glare from his brother.

"Elena's right, you know." He speaks these words to Stefan, although his eyes are trained on the girl in question. She can feel his hand squeezing hers comfortingly. "She has some pretty valid points. The vision appeared to _her_, not either of us. Maybe what she saw _is_ the truth. Maybe I was wrong in thinking the vision is an illusion."

"Okay, but I still don't see how –" Stefan starts for the hundredth time.

But he's interrupted by the appearance of two unlikely people: Bonnie and Caroline. They sweep through the living room like a hurricane.

Caroline's blonde locks are a mess, and so is Bonnie's dark brown hair. Caroline's hair looks especially windblown, probably from running so fast. Elena has no idea how Bonnie managed to keep up, and she absently hopes that her hair won't look so disheveled after a speedy run, which she's still really looking forward to. However, it doesn't seem like she will get to experience that exhilarating rush for quite some time. Her two best friends wear panicky expressions, and Bonnie's skin is frightfully pale. Alarm bells begin ringing inside Elena's head.

Caroline opens her mouth, but Elena is way ahead of her.

"What's happened?"

"Jeremy," her blonde-haired friend says, oddly calm now. "We can't find him."

Over a tidal wave of fear, Elena casts a sidelong look at Bonnie, who still cares about her younger brother (even though she won't admit it – to them _or_ to herself). _That's why she's so pale_, she thinks with a touch of concern. Just because they aren't getting along now does not mean that Elena still doesn't worry about her witchy friend constantly.

"What do you mean, you can't find him?" Elena demands. She's somehow standing up again, tension bunching at the base of her neck. She can feel Damon trying to pull her down beside him, but she resists.

"We've looked everywhere," Caroline explains. Her voice is steady, but there is real fear shining in her eyes. "He was supposed to meet us at a bakery near The Grill half an hour ago, but he never showed. We checked your house first, Elena, and The Grill right after" – Elena shoots a quick glance at Damon, who's watching the two of them blankly and doesn't seem to catch her look – "and I ran up and down a few blocks, but I didn't see him. In fact, I couldn't even catch a clear whiff of him. Usually I can smell someone because of my extra keen –"

"We know, we know," Damon cuts in, waving an impatient hand. "Who was the last person to see him today?"

"Me," Bonnie says in a whisper. Her voice is eerily empty.

"How long ago was that?"

"About an hour before Elena's…accident."

Damon's brow furrows, and Elena wonders where he's going with this, if he's going anywhere at all. Obviously they need to find her brother. That should be taking priority over everything. Once again, the group isn't taking any physical action, and Elena's already paper-thin tolerance is rapidly melting away.

Without warning, she shoots toward the front door of the mansion, pausing briefly in the entryway to the expansive living room. "I'll go out and look for Jer," she volunteers, eyes wild. "If something's happened to him, I don't know what I'll –"

Stefan appears next to her, faster than she expects. He places a heavy hand on her shoulder and tries to lead her back inside. "We _will_ search for Jeremy. But first we have to figure out where he went."

"He didn't _go_ anywhere." Damon's voice, suddenly hard and full of terrible knowledge. "He's dead. Or about to be."

Bonnie gasps, and color finally floods back into her face. Her cheeks shine a startling fire-engine red. "Dead?" she cries shrilly. "What do you mean? He's not _dead_, Damon, don't you _ever_ –"

Elena freezes, and suddenly it all makes sense. Dread, horror, and despair crash over her, knocking the breath (though she doesn't necessarily need it) right out of her. She staggers back, and only the pressure of Stefan's hand keeps her standing. He's still trying to keep her from running out of the house, and Elena knows that he doesn't really care about her safety…he's just worried about other innocent people getting hurt if she happens to come across them.

"Damon's right," she says finally, not knowing how or what to feel. "Jeremy's in danger."

"What do you know about this?" Caroline asks the two of them cautiously, her eyes roving from the couch to the doorway and back again.

Elena turns terror-filled eyes on her blonde friend. "Werewolves."

"Werewolves?"

"Werewolves," Damon confirms. "Here's a quick update, in case you haven't heard: Elena experienced a vision just over an hour ago, and it showed a pack of werewolves attacking, eating, and eventually killing a human. None of us can identify who the human is, although we think it might be a man. Our suspicions have just been confirmed."

Bonnie lets out a hoarse cry, and she pitches forward unexpectedly. Caroline catches her in a blur of motion, then lifts the lifeless body up into her arms and lowers Bonnie onto the couch that Damon's still sitting on. He stands up instantly, allowing Caroline to spread the witch's body out. Stefan watches this unfold without comment, although he does take his hand off Elena's shoulder, which is starting to ache from the pressure. He moves away from her, and she can't say she isn't glad for that.

"If I lose Jeremy, I'll die," Elena says hollowly, unaware that she has spoken. When they all glance at her, however, she blinks and looks away, embarrassed at having shared this private thought aloud.

But this terrible pronouncement _finally_ pushes someone – namely, the Salvatore brothers – into motion. Damon flies out of the room and disappears down a shadowed hallway. Meanwhile, Stefan begins shoving aside bottles, glasses, and containers that sit inside a large wooden cabinet. It's evident that he's searching for something vital because he makes several small sounds of frustration as he works.

Damon is standing beside her a second later, a silver crossbow in hand. The sight of it shocks Elena back to full awareness. He extends the weapon to her and wraps her tiny fingers around it. "You're going to want to use this."

She blinks and accepts it without comment.

Stefan finally succeeds in finding what he's searching for, and he thrusts several silver knives at Damon and Caroline, the latter of the two catching them clumsily, her attention mainly focused on Bonnie's well-being. The older Salvatore brother extracts a handgun from the cabinet, and Elena doesn't have to be told that it shoots silver bullets.

Stefan, tucking the gun into the waistband of his jeans, says, "We might have some time before they attack."

"Not much," Damon adds, fingering two of the knives.

"Not much," Stefan agrees, turning his attention on Elena. "But for vampires, a little can mean a lot in terms of time."

She nods, understanding what he means. She's included in this now; she's no longer the useless human who needs constant protecting by the others.

Stefan then addresses the rest of the room, with the exception of Bonnie, who's still passed out on the antique couch. "We're going to ambush the werewolves before they can get to Jeremy. Damon and I will be on the offensive to distract and take down the wolves. Elena, you'll have to locate your brother and protect him. Caroline, you'll be in charge of protecting both of them. Once Elena has secured Jeremy, we retreat as fast as we can. Got it?"

They all nod.

"Ready to go hunting, brother?" Damon asks sarcastically. He tosses his knives from hand to hand.

"More than ready." Stefan once again turns his attention to his girlfriend. "Elena, you know how to use that crossbow?"

She shrugs, then nods firmly when his forehead creases. "About as well as anyone around here."

"Good. You might need it."

"What about Bonnie?" Caroline blurts, casting woeful eyes on the motionless witch.

"She'll be perfectly fine if we leave her here. We shouldn't be gone for more than twenty minutes. Besides," Stefan adds, taking on a stern expression, "she'll only slow us down. She'll be in shock when she wakes up."

Caroline hesitates, but, sighing with defeat, steps away from Bonnie. The group waits for her to get herself together with obvious impatience and anticipation. "Let's go kill some grimy werewolves," she says, seemingly resigned to this unfortunate fate.

"And save my brother," Elena adds, feeling determined and fiercely protective. Damon gives her an encouraging smile, and she knows instinctively that he will protect her in a heartbeat.

With that said, the four vampires race out of the Salvatore mansion, their minds and bodies concentrating on one individual: Jeremy Gilbert.

* * *

**I hope you all liked this chapter, and don't worry, there's more to come! **


	8. Fooled

Once they have assembled on the outskirts of Mystic Falls, where there are more wooded spaces than anywhere else, and therefore the likelihood of finding Jeremy is greater, the four vampires decide to split up.

"We'll cover more ground if we search separate areas," Stefan is saying. "We don't know for sure where Jeremy is, and we don't have enough time to look over every spare inch of ground."

"Agreed," Caroline says, pocketing her silver knives. "So who's going with who?"

Stefan casts his eyes quickly around the circle. "Well, Damon and I will go by ourselves, but I think you should go with Elena, Caroline. No offense," he adds, holding up a hand, "but it only makes sense since Elena isn't very…well, experienced."

"Come on, brother, say what you're really thinking," Damon interjects, eyeing Elena. "She's not even a day old."

"I'm not even _half_ a day old," the brown-haired beauty corrects, narrowing her eyes, "but I've managed to keep myself under control."

"Mostly," Damon mutters, and Elena shoots him a look. He merely smiles and wiggles his eyebrows.

"Anyway," she continues, "I can look out for myself."

Despite her protestations, Stefan shakes his head once. "There's no room for negotiation here, Elena. We're pressed for time, and I don't want you out on your own just yet."

Damon instantly becomes serious. "My brother's right…for once. The two of us have enough to worry about without you getting yourself kidnapped or injured."

Elena's already fuming. "I'm not a human anymore, you guys! Can't you see that? I'm not helpless! In fact, I could probably –"

Caroline lays a reassuring but firm hand on her friend's quivering shoulder. "You're right, Elena. But we have more important things to worry about at the moment. Let's just do what they want, and you can yell and scream at them later." Her tone is promising. "Right now we should be focused on your brother, okay?"

As Elena slows her breathing and forces herself to relax, Caroline shoots the Salvatore brothers a warning look, one that clearly says, _Don't push her unless you want your heads bitten off and your legs broken into itty bitty pieces._

They don't say anything, and Caroline takes their silence as total agreement.

"Where were we?" she asks brightly, finally releasing Elena's shoulder.

Stefan reluctantly nods his thanks for her intervention, and says, "I'll scout out the north section of town while Damon scouts out the south. You can take – I mean, _accompany_ – Elena to the western part, and if none of us finds anything, we can all meet up in the eastern area of Mystic Falls, by the high school."

"Sounds good to me," Damon drawls, looking ready for a fight. From the animated expression on his face, Elena knows that he's hoping he will find some werewolves in his part of town. He's gripping his two silver knives tightly. A pang of worry cramps her stomach.

After a few more last minute instructions, they split up, the boys zooming in opposite directions while the girls run in a line perpendicular to them. The night air tickles Elena's skin, and her glossy brown hair streams behind her, revealing her pale face, which is unusually strained and alert. She's trying to listen in every direction as they run, hoping for a sign of her brother. She wishes with every fiber of her being that he's still okay. Without him, Elena's thin mental state will dissolve entirely, and she will crumble.

"Are you okay?" Care asks after several seconds of silence. They are running at an almost normal human pace now, so their words are easily distinguishable between the wind and other night noises.

"I've been better," she replies, unconsciously scenting the air. She can't detect anything that smells like teen angst though. _Great_, she thinks, suppressing a bitter smile, _I'm starting to use Damon's term to describe my own brother._

"We'll find him, you know," Caroline says softly. "Damon won't let anything happen to him because he knows how much Jeremy means to you and Bonnie."

Elena's face is grim. "That may be true, but Damon can't take on a pack of werewolves, Care. If that's what it comes down to, we both know he'll lose."

"But we also know he'll die trying to save your brother anyway."

The two girls are silent again. They race down five whole blocks, most of which are completely deserted, while Elena tries to figure out how to respond to this. The crossbow Damon has given her is small enough (when folded together) to fit into her back pocket, but it bulges uncomfortably and makes running awkward.

"I don't want that," she says finally, pushing aside these distracting thoughts.

Caroline raises a questioning eyebrow, though she keeps her eyes focused straight ahead. If Elena doesn't know any better – and she doesn't…does she? – she might say that Caroline suspects what's about to come out of her mouth. It's a weird feeling, knowing that Caroline knows. Like Elena's psychic or something. Maybe that's a part of becoming a vampire…like gaining the power of compulsion.

"Damon doesn't need to sacrifice his life for me or anyone else. I don't get why he feels the need to protect every aspect of my life."

Oh, but Elena _does_ get it. She understands perfectly well why the mysterious vampire acts the way he does. She just doesn't want to admit it out loud for fear of sounding obnoxious.

Caroline seems to be thinking along the same lines because she says, with great exasperation, "Elena, that boy cares about you so much it's almost a crime. It's obvious to everyone, including Stefan, who pretends like he doesn't notice, by the way." She rolls her eyes as they race across an empty intersection. "You just don't want to admit to yourself that maybe _Damon_ – _not_ Stefan – is the one for you. Maybe, in your case, the bad boy _is_ the better option."

The blonde-haired vamp knows that transitioning from a human into the supernatural creature she is now is not something to be taken lightly. It has changed her perspective on life, not to mention on a number of important issues like the Stefan-Elena-Damon love triangle. For a while, she thought Stefan would be best for Elena, but then she started having doubts. Now those doubts are amplified, mostly because Elena is now a vampire, and that changes literally _everything_.

_Maybe_, she thinks suddenly, with a burst of great insight, _Stefan is good for human Elena but not vampire Elena. In Damon's case, it's reversed. He's good for vampire Elena but not human Elena._

After a moment of reflection, Caroline nods to herself. In her excitement, she considers telling Elena about this observation. It makes so much sense! She knows, however, that her best friend has to figure out her love life by herself, with no outside help.

Elena, completely unaware of her friend's internal musings, shifts uncomfortably, her attention wavering between the issue at hand – locating Jeremy – and the need to spill her feelings and thoughts to her best friend about a very confusing matter – the irresistible Salvatore brothers. She hates feeling so indecisive, and the longer she's unsure of where her loyalties lie, the angrier she becomes when the subject is brought up.

And it seems to be on everyone's mind these days.

"I have no idea which one is right for me, Caroline," she sighs, forcing down her confusion. "I might never know. But for now, can we just drop it? Jeremy's just as important, and I'm starting to think we'll have to regroup near the high school before we find him."

Elena's shoulders droop. She knows that the longer it takes to find Jeremy, the more likely it is that he's already dead, and that's something she can't face.

Caroline smiles weakly. "Sure. I know everything's a little much now, what with you being a vampire for only about five hours" – she gives Elena a sympathetic look – "and then having to find out that your brother's missing _on top of_ waking up dead. That would be hard for anyone to handle. I'm just glad you're alive. In a sense."

They share a warm smile, but the moment is broken when a deep voice speaks up inside their heads: _Meet us at the park. We're about half a mile in, near the fountain. Damon has Jeremy_.

Stefan's voice fades, and the sounds of the night creep back in. Elena's body tenses, but this time in anxious anticipation. They've found her brother, and by the sound of it, Jer's alive! She's understandably overjoyed and can barely restrain herself from jumping up and down.

So instead of doing something that will probably embarrass vampires worldwide, she simply turns and throws her arms around Caroline. "They found him! I can't believe it!"

Her friend laughs joyously and hugs her back. "I told you Damon wouldn't let anything happen."

"You were right." Unwinding her arms from around Caroline's neck, Elena leans back and tightens her tiny hands into fists. "You ready to confront some werewolves?"

"Not really." Caroline smiles even as her muscles tense. "But it's not like I have much of a choice."

Elena nods, understanding completely. She's frightened, but if the last thing she will ever do is save her brother, she will sacrifice herself without hesitation. Deep down, however, she knows Damon will never let that happen.

"Race you there," she says lightly, and takes off, Caroline close on her heels.

* * *

The human's scent is strong, almost too powerful for him to ignore. He hasn't fed in quite a while, and the smell of fresh blood is clouding out most of his thoughts. That's by no means a good thing. In fact, he knows it's downright dangerous. He needs to concentrate, if not for Jeremy or Bonnie's sake, then at least for Elena.

Damon will do anything for Elena.

But then, everyone knows that. All he has to do is look at her – the silky smooth hair, flawless skin, dreamy eyes, and quick smile – and he instantly becomes lost.

Over the past few months, she has started to mean everything to him, and her problems immediately become his own, no matter how trivial or impossible they seem. So if Jeremy is missing and in harm's way, Damon knows that finding him is of the utmost importance. He won't rest until the little angst-driven human is safely back at the Gilbert house.

As he creeps silently through the trees just to the left of the fountain in Mystic Falls' Central Park, his thoughts stray back to The Grill and the delightful developments he saw in his relationship with Elena. He certainly hadn't expected her to go along with him, but she only tensed once, in what he recognized as shock, before she leaned forward and pressed her body tightly against his own.

The explosion of relief and happiness that spread through Damon at that moment makes him smile now. Nothing can or will _ever_ rival that sensation. Yet despite Elena's obvious attraction to him back at The Grill, Damon wants more. He senses she isn't ready to move forward, however, and so he will have to wait. Waiting is not his forte, truth be told (as if it isn't already blatantly obvious), but he has no problem making sacrifices, especially where Elena is concerned.

He's pretty sure that Stefan knows nothing about Elena's final choice, and he wants to keep it that way. She seems to be changing her mind, slowly but surely. It still hurts when he thinks back on Elena's heart-wrenching words, the ones she spoke to him seconds before the accident. Even though they seem to carry no weight after all that has happened since then, the preciseness with which she cut him off has left a lasting mark on him, one that's sure to appear at some point and cause drama.

"Love," he says aloud, sighing dramatically. "It's just as deadly as war."

"What are you carrying on about?"

Though he hasn't been expecting him until later, Damon barely glances over to a shadowed line of trees as his brother steps into view. "I'm soliloquizing. Couldn't you tell?"

Stefan's expression is hard. "Where's Jeremy?"

He lifts his leather-clad shoulders. "Not here, brother, and you know it. You would've smelled angst the second you stepped into this little clearing."

Stefan zips over to him and grips his forearm tightly. "You said you'd found him, Damon."

"Well, looks like I lied."

Stefan grinds his teeth together. "This isn't a game, _brother_. Elena and Caroline will be here any minute, and once Elena finds out that you don't have her brother…"

The truth of this statement makes Damon wince, but he says smoothly, "Calm down. I scented him two or three minutes ago. He's got to be around here somewhere, so quit nagging."

The younger Salvatore brother relaxes, but only slightly. "I'm not as worried about the girls arriving as I am about the werewolves finding Jeremy first."

"Have you smelled any of those grimy creatures since you got here?" Damon snaps suddenly, fed up with Stefan's superior attitude and dry looks.

He doesn't reply, and Damon nods, satisfied. "You didn't smell them because _they're not here_, and they probably won't be for some time. Relax. We've got this."

"Have we?" Stefan asks quietly.

Damon's dark eyebrows pop up, daring him to speak his mind. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, let's see: there's a pack of werewolves looking for fresh meat somewhere in Mystic Falls, a missing human who could easily be snatched up by a number of supernatural creatures, and a wild, unpredictable vampire racing around town in a panic. That's what we've _got_, Damon."

"Harebrained werewolves and a depressed teenager are out of our control, Stefan," Damon reminds him. "The only real problem here is Elena, and who, exactly, is responsible for that?"

Stefan goes rigid, and his eyes narrow, becoming icy. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying," Damon spits, turning on him with unconcealed malice in his eyes, "it's mainly because of _you_ that Elena's a vampire. If you had rescued her first instead of saving the useless quarterback, none of this would be happening right now."

"You're accusing me of killing Elena?"

"Not _killing_ her, you imbecile –"

Stefan rolls right over him, his voice rising with fury. "It was _her_ choice! She wanted me to save Matt, and that's what I did. I respected her wishes, and you have no idea how much I'm regretting that decision now."

"I have some sort of an idea," Damon says, his voice suddenly soft and inflectionless. "It'll be harder than ever now to keep her safe."

"She was never safe to begin with," Stefan counters tiredly, and Damon doesn't argue.

Their conversation has no choice but to come to an end – or at least a temporary pause – because at that moment, two gusts of wind slice through the trees, causing the branches and leaves around the brothers to sway and rustle. Damon quickly extracts his two silver knives, although he suspects the danger he's waiting to confront is still far off.

The two young vampires stop at the same time, Caroline looking calm and poised while Elena, by contrast, appears somewhat frazzled. Her hair is severely windblown, her pale skin is damp with early morning dew, and her clothes are pulled tight against her tiny body because of the unnatural speed with which she has used to run to the park.

Damon has never seen her look so beautiful.

She glances around anxiously, no doubt searching for some sign of Jeremy. "Where is he?"

"Not here," Stefan says bluntly, and Damon could have wrung his neck for delivering the news so indelicately.

Damon instinctively reaches for her hand, but Stefan's harsh tone makes him remember that – in the few milliseconds it will take for Elena to realize what this pronouncement means – he will no longer be on her good side.

"Not here?" she repeats, obviously clueless.

Caroline's eyes narrow dangerously. "I told you two not to piss me off. What game are you playing?"

Damon shakes his head, apology clear in his dark eyes. "It's not a game, Caroline. I told you Jeremy was here because he _is_ close, but I don't technically have him. Yet."

Elena can feel his gaze boring into her, but she refuses to make any further eye contact. "So Jeremy's still in danger?!"

Alarmed at the rising panic in her voice, Stefan takes a step forward. "We don't know that for –"

"Why are we still standing around?" she asks, her voice careening wildly with a mix of emotions. "If neither of you have Jer, we should be looking for him! We're wasting time!"

Damon opens his mouth, but she's already gone. A group of swallows takes flight some few hundred yards away as Elena zips past. The Salvatore brothers look ashamed and dismayed. _As they should_, Caroline thinks, folding her arms imposingly.

"Boys," she mutters finally, turning away after they both drop their gazes. "When are they going to develop actual brains?"

Damon knows it's a rhetorical question, but he can't help himself. "Probably never, my dear."

She throws him a nasty look before leaving the scene.

Guilt instantly swarms him for leading Elena on. Damon knows that giving someone false hope is like hitting them in the chest with a bowling ball. It's extremely painful and knocks all the breath – not to mention all the optimism – out of them.

"She's right," Stefan says in a quiet voice. "We should've been scouting for Jeremy instead of talking about what's right for her. Elena knows how to handle herself."

"She _thinks_ she does," Damon argues halfheartedly, and takes off in the direction that Caroline has fled.

He's racing to catch up to Elena before she does something stupid, but a scream splits through the night air before he has even exited the clearing. A loud roaring sounds in his ears, blocking everything else out, and something in his mind tells him that whatever has caused the scream is not to be taken lightly.

Damon's thoughts are flashing through his head at warp-speed, and he's so distracted that he nearly runs right into Caroline, who's standing next to a giant oak tree, Stefan only ten feet away. Both of them are focused on something to his right…and they're smiling.

Outraged, he opens his mouth to demand what's going on and where Elena is and if she's in danger…but then he hears a second scream, this one startlingly close.

Damon cranes his neck, searching for the source. His eyes land on Elena, who's covering her mouth with her hands, eyes wide and shining. Before he can stop her, she steps forward and flings her arms around…_Jeremy_!

More relieved than he can possibly let on, Damon slumps against the oak tree and says, oddly breathless, "Well, we found him."

"_Elena_ found him," Caroline sniffs. "No thanks to you two."

"Look, Care, we get that you're angry with us, but –"

"No, she's right," Damon interrupts, much to the blonde's surprise. "We should have started tearing the place apart as soon as you reached me, Stefan. I thought I could locate Jeremy before anyone made it to the park, but apparently the kid was a lot farther off than I anticipated."

Caroline stares, open-mouthed. "Damon, _apologizing_? What's going on?"

He rolls his eyes and throws her an amused smirk. "What can I say? I'm trying to turn over a new leaf."

"It seems to be working," Stefan mutters, and glances back and forth between his brother and supposed girlfriend.

Damon shrugs. "I just want Elena to be happy."

"Is that _all_ you want for her?" Stefan demands suddenly.

Caroline looks away and groans. "C'mon, guys, we're not going to do this now, okay?"

Damon glares at his younger brother. "This isn't the time, Stefan. We'll save that conversation for a later date."

Meanwhile, several feet away, the Gilbert siblings are reuniting. Elena is hugging her brother, although she restrains herself from putting too much of her strength into it. She doesn't want to hurt Jeremy now that she has just gotten him back. Not to mention that he still has no idea she's now a part of the undead community.

"What are you doing out here anyway?" she asks, reluctantly releasing him.

"I told you, I just wanted to get out of the house for a while. Plus," he adds, "all the chaos in Mystic Falls was making me go crazy. I wanted a bit of normalcy, and the park has always provided that for me. Remember when –"

"You thought coming all the way out here, in this isolated part of Mystic Falls, was safer than staying at home?" Elena looks doubtful.

"Well, yeah. I didn't think anyone or any_thing_ would attack me –"

"Jeremy, it's the dead of night."

He shrugs, totally unconcerned. "When I heard about your accident, nothing seemed to matter to me anymore. I think I was about to have a nervous breakdown. But when you stopped me on the sidewalk and told me to follow you, I just thought –"

"Wait, what?" Elena interrupts, confused. "When did I do that?"

"Earlier in the evening," he says, giving her a bewildered look. "Don't you remember? It was around ten o'clock. You told me that Stefan had pulled you out of the truck in time and you were perfectly fine."

"Jeremy, this is the first time I've seen you since the accident." Dread is starting to fill her stomach, but Elena can't figure out why. She knows the explanation is going to be something she does not want to hear, but she really has no other choice. "You said I led you out here, right?"

"Yeah," he replies. "I've been standing here for the past hour waiting for you to come back."

She glances behind her at the three vampires conversing quietly by an enormous oak tree. Alarm sings through her mind, and she turns to Jeremy with barely concealed horror.

"Listen to me, Jer," she whispers, leaning in close so that the others will have trouble hearing if they are attempting to listen in. "You were compelled to wait here, and now you're in terrible danger. We all are."

As this realization sinks in, Elena can't stop a whimper from escaping her pursed lips. She needs to warn the others, but they are too far away. If she shouts out a warning, the werewolves will be on them instantly.

"_What_?" he exclaims loudly, and Damon glances over, his expression unreadable.

She gives her brother a fierce look. "Keep your voice down! There are werewolves in the park tonight."

Jeremy's eyes widen. "_That's_ why you're so worried." He pauses. "But then why would you lead me here if –"

"I didn't lead you here, don't you get that?" she hisses, furious that he isn't able to comprehend what she's trying to say.

"Of course she didn't," comes an obnoxious purr that reverberates down Elena's spine. The park shakes with the intensity of the voice. "_I_ did."

Behind them, Caroline gasps, Damon tenses, and Stefan looks on in shock. Elena knows then that it's all over. _Too late_, she thinks despairingly. _I should have warned them when I had the slightest opening of a chance._

Appearing from behind a cluster of close-knitted pine trees is none other than the beautiful, conniving, ridiculously intelligent and impulsive Katherine Pierce.


	9. Katerina Petrova

It's been months since anyone in Mystic Falls caught a glimpse of the Elena-lookalike. Or, well, _exact_alike, considering they're basically the same person (where appearances are concerned). Now that Elena herself is a vampire, it will be really tough to discern who is who.

_On the other hand_, she thinks moodily_, if Katherine acts like she always does, we won't have much of a problem._

As predicted, Katherine winks at the Salvatore brothers. "Nice to see you two are looking as handsome as ever." Her eyes linger on Stefan's broad frame before skittering past Damon and Caroline…to land distastefully on Elena. "Ah, the plot twist of the century: Little Miss Goody-Two-Shoes-"I-Sacrifice-My-Life-At-Every-Turn" Elena Gilbert is finally a vampire! And yes," she adds, obviously enjoying herself, "I say _finally_ because apparently no one but me saw that it was bound to happen."

"You couldn't have known," Elena scoffs, surprised at her dismissive tone. Beside her, Jeremy stiffens, and she knows it's because he hasn't even considered that she might be a vampire as a result of the accident.

Katherine seems somewhat taken aback as well, though for different reasons, of course. "Oh, really? You've been hanging around _vampires_ for the past year, dear, and I've honestly lost count of how many people have tried – and unfortunately failed – to kill you." She cocks her head to the side, smiling pityingly. "But in all seriousness, it almost comes as a surprise that you've lasted this long."

"_Almost_?" Elena asks, the word coming out against her will.

"Trust me, Elena," the centuries-old vamp snarls, cupping a hand over her mouth like the two of them are sharing a secret despite the fact that they are standing on opposite sides of the park clearing. "Without the two love-struck brothers standing to your right, you wouldn't have made it past the first month. It's thanks to them that you're still alive and well." She rolls her eyes. "Of course, I can't really say _alive_ anymore, can I?"

Elena grinds her teeth together, biting back her fury.

"What are you doing here, Katherine?" Stefan asks in a steely tone.

"Aw, you're not happy to see me, love?" she asks, pouting. "That's a pity. I've missed you more than I can say, Stefan."

He merely shakes his head and looks away, and Elena knows he's both embarrassed and furious. Katherine has always acted like everything around her – including innocent lives – is just a small part of some master plan that only she is aware of. The carelessness with which she speaks and acts towards them is infuriating.

"Where have you been?" This comes from Damon, who looks murderous. Elena shudders at the dark expression on his face.

Katherine twirls a piece of her long brown hair around her index finger and says coyly, "Away." Her gaze flicks to the shadowed tree line, and Elena has no trouble figuring out what's lurking just out of sight.

Sure enough, several throaty growls start up, and Elena's skin prickles. She can hear Caroline sucking in a sharp breath. She knows this will be difficult for her blonde-haired friend, mostly because Care has always protected Tyler from anything that tries to hurt him when he's in werewolf form. Now she's going to have to battle other werewolves, and Elena can tell that Caroline will think she's betraying her boyfriend by doing so.

"What's wrong, Elena?" Katherine smiles sadistically. "Scared?"

"Of course not," she replies scathingly, though she knows that with a vampire's keen hearing Katherine can hear the slight tremble in her voice.

Can she really be blamed for being frightened out of her wits though? She has only been a vampire for a little over six hours, for Pete's sake! So much has happened during that time, and she's barely begun to comprehend what she's capable of doing. The last few hours haven't allowed any time for thought, just mindless action.

It takes a moment for Elena to realize that Damon's now standing next to her, his body positioned for a fight. He must have crept over to her without her knowing. Jeremy is surveying the scene with a mixture of confusion – which is understandable, of course – and outright fear. Elena unconsciously moves him behind her, out of Katherine's direct line of sight.

"Do you like my new friends?" Katherine asks, still smiling. "I must admit, they're much more…_foul-smelling_ than vampires, but they have a knack for obeying."

"Why in the world would they obey _you_?" Stefan demands.

The Bulgarian rolls her eyes. "Isn't it obvious?"

Everyone in the clearing exchanges quick glances.

"Okay, apparently it isn't," she says, sighing dramatically. "You see, I informed my little wolfy pals here about the crime you committed against one of their own."

Damon raises a sardonic eyebrow. "Crime? Are you sure you aren't confusing your actions with ours?"

"Please, Damon, don't be modest. You do remember poor Uncle Mason …don't you?"

Damon scoffs. "That's old news, Katherine. We all know what happened to him."

She cocks her head in the direction of the trees. "This particular pack was completely unaware of what you did, Damon. And just so you know, they're _very_ unforgiving."

Elena knows what she's implying. The werewolves are probably furious and no doubt feeling vengeful about the loss of one of their kind. It doesn't take much to see that Katherine probably persuaded them to follow her orders with the promise of a messy revenge against the vampires who killed Mason Lockwood.

"Very clever," she mutters.

"Why, thank you, Elena!" Katherine exclaims mockingly. "I never thought you of all people would praise my work."

Elena's eyes narrow. "I'm not praising you, Katherine. What you've done – and what you still do on a daily basis – is sickening and wro–"

Katherine yawns and pretends to glance down at an invisible watch. "I hate to break it to you, Elena, but your rant is boring me, and I don't care to listen."

With that said, she waves a hand grandly, twisting two of her fingers together. Elena has time to register it as some sort of signal before six hulking werewolves leap into view. She can feel Jeremy cringing away from the snarling creatures, and she hopes he won't do something stupid in his panic. Standing in front of the oak tree, Caroline and Stefan get into defensive positions, although Care seems really uncertain about where this is heading.

"If they attack, get Jeremy out of here," Damon whispers faintly, his voice nearly inaudible.

She nods. "I'll drop him off at the house and come back."

His body tenses beside her. "You'll doing nothing of the sort, Elena. Stay home."

Startled, she turns her head slightly to the side so that she can see him. "But you'll need all the help you can get."

"Not _your_ help," he replies through his teeth.

Wounded, she stares at him. His jaw is working up and down, and his dark eyes blaze a murky black. Everything about him screams dangerous, but she can tell he's concerned for her safety more than anything.

"I can take care of myself," she says softly. "You don't need to worry, Damon."

"Don't tell me what I can and can't do," he snarls back, and Elena actually takes a step away.

She's undeniably hurt, but also determined, too. Just because Damon wants her to stay away from the action doesn't necessarily mean she has to. Being a vampire has its advantages; she can probably outrun him if it comes to that.

Despite his warnings, Elena _will_ return to fight Katherine and the wolf pack. It's the right thing to do, and only fair. After all they have done to ensure her safety, the least she can do is return the favor.

Elena turns her back on the seething vampire beside her and concentrates on Katherine, who is now surrounded by massive, bloodthirsty wolves. Their black eyes rove restlessly over the vampires, and some of their gazes linger hungrily on Damon. _It figures Katherine told them who to go after directly_, she thinks angrily, bunching her hands into fists.

"Let's get started, shall we?"

"Wait!" Elena shouts suddenly. Something has just occurred to her, something significant.

Katherine groans. "Do you _ever_ stop talking?" She folds her arms. "What is it?"

"Why are you here?"

"I thought we already covered this –" she begins.

"Well, we didn't," Elena interrupts, anger shimmering in her voice. "Why did you come back to Mystic Falls? What is it you want _this_ time?"

Katherine's eyes immediately widen and become wounded. Her hand flies over her undead heart. "_This_ time?" she repeats softly. "Why do I always have to _want_ something? Can't I just visit my old friends without everyone getting worked up about it?"

Elena has had enough, and she knows that she is coming very close to attacking her so-called twin until she's nothing more than a pile of ashes. "Stop playing innocent, Katherine. It's very unflattering on you."

Katherine's eyes turn flinty. "Do you really want to know, doppelganger? I have a feeling you won't like the true reason I'm here, but if you insist..."

"I'm all ears," she snaps back.

"I want the Gilbert family gone for good," she hisses menacingly. "Your family has caused this town pain and trouble and countless complications, and I want you and your sniveling brother and _anyone_ who is even the _slightest_ bit connected to you, _dead_!" Katherine is seething by the end, and her fangs have popped out of her gums. Her eyes are ringed with dead skin, and her pupils have contracted into giant black orbs. She looks monstrous.

"You know what the Original family will do to you if –" This is coming from Stefan, and he seems _really_ rattled. The expression on his face is one of great horror.

"I could care less about the Originals, _Stefan_," Katherine hisses, cutting him off. "None of them bother me, and the only one who could inflict any damage on me is now dead."

"You're insane," Caroline says quietly, and her eyes are filled with fear. Fear for the coming battle, and fear for Elena and Jeremy's lives.

She shrugs, obviously taking this insult as a well-disguised compliment. "Haven't you noticed? I've _always_ been insane, Blondie."

Elena can tell that Katherine is done talking. Something in her manner makes it pretty clear that she wants nothing more than to rip Elena's head from her body. Her stomach bubbles with dread, though not for what lies ahead for her. She doesn't want anything to happen to Jeremy, and she will fight until her last aching, unnecessary breath to keep him safe. That she can promise.

Katherine stands tall and gestures to the werewolves. The six of them instantly crouch into offensive positions. "Eat the human, slaughter the vampires." Her lips curve into a sinister smile. "But save the doppelganger for me."

A split-second later, the werewolves are charging towards them.

Elena reaches behind her, fast as lightning, and grabs hold of Jeremy's quivering wrist. Damon begins to move in front of what's left of the Gilbert family, knives in hand, while Stefan and Caroline move as one to face the oncoming rush of hulking monsters.

The werewolves are less than twenty yards away now, and she closes her eyes, bracing for the inevitable.

But as time passes – at first in mere seconds, and then minutes – she realizes that nothing's happening, and that she is not, for the second time that night, dead. She opens her eyes wide, and can't hold back an astounded gasp.

The werewolves are elevated fifteen feet off the ground, their furry legs moving back and forth in the chilly night air. They rotate their bulbous heads from side-to-side, attempting to find the strings that hold them up.

But Elena knows that their search is fruitless.

Over to the right, blending in seamlessly with the dark trees, is a lone figure. Its hand is extended in the direction of the hovering werewolves, and its body seems to be shaking with the effort. Still, their mental grip holds more-or-less steady, and the werewolves are basically rendered helpless.

A slow, tired smile stretches across Elena's lips. "Thank God you've come."

And Bonnie Bennett steps into the clearing.


	10. Witchy Persuasion

_No way_, Elena thinks. _This is too good to be true_.

She doesn't have to turn around to see that Caroline is grinning; Elena can sense it from where she stands, which is about a dozen feet away, near the center of the clearing. The two friends exchange a quick, hopeful look. Scanning the crowd for the others' reactions – they range from surprised to confused to utterly relieved – Elena finds that her eyes are drawn again and again back to Bonnie, and she can't help but stare in wonder. The witch's timing couldn't have been more precise.

"Werewolves, Katherine?" Bonnie drawls, a smirk edging at the corners of her lips. "You must be getting pretty desperate."

"Oh, please," the Bulgarian responds, waving a careless hand. But something in her usually superior countenance has changed; she's casting worried glances at the pack of supernatural creatures suspended in the brisk night air. This is evidently not going _at all_ how she's planned.

One of the werewolves snaps as Caroline and Stefan slowly creep towards the rest of the group. The vampires both turn and give the beast withering looks, and – surprising everyone – the animal quiets without further protest.

Damon, looking on in amusement, pockets his silver knives – though not before he flashes them in full view of the werewolves – and claps his hands together. "Well, looks like there's been a change of plans, Katherine. Though trust me, it's as much of a surprise to you as it is to us." He shoots a glare Bonnie's way, and Elena suspects that he had, unbelievably, been looking forward to taking down some nasty wolves. That figures. Only Damon would enjoy an activity that's excessively violent and bloody.

"As for your _wolfy pals_," he continues, sighing with mock sympathy, "they'll have to wait a bit longer for their next meal."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Damon," Katherine says crossly, thrusting her chin into the air. "Their next meal is standing right in front of them, and once I take care of this pesky witch-wannabe –"

"Oh, no you don't," Caroline interrupts angrily. "You're not going to touch her, _bitch_."

Katherine's elegantly-shaped eyebrows rise mockingly. "Well. I wasn't aware that we'd resorted to cursing. Just so you know – although I find it somewhat childish – you'll lose that particular battle, my dear."

Stefan rolls his eyes skyward. "Speaking of childish: Katherine, quit stalling. You aren't fooling anyone. Just admit that this game you're so intent on playing is over."

Her eyes glimmer, and Elena detects a flash of insanity embedded in them. "Please. You only wish I was finished with you, Stefan. This may be clichéd, but…it's not over until I _say_ it's over."

And with that pronouncement, she shoots forward in a blur of motion, aiming for Bonnie.

Damon, however, has rightfully predicted that she will go after their main line of defense, and so he's already there, shielding Bonnie from the sadistic vampire racing at her head-on. The witch braces herself, but Damon seems completely at ease, as if he's in his comfort zone. There's still an ever-present smirk on his face, and he exudes savage readiness.

Katherine must have registered who's standing in her way at some point because she's suddenly no longer as blurry. Her speed reduces drastically in the space of a few nanoseconds. Still, despite her sudden attempt to stop, she plows into Damon with the full force of a wrecking ball. He skids back a few feet, though he manages to stay upright.

Damon whisper-snarls, "Don't think you can pull anything on me. You may be older, but you're sure as hell not any smarter." He captures her wrists behind her in a literal iron grip.

Katherine shakes her head, rolling her eyes. "Smarter? I doubt your intelligence surpasses mine, Damon. Please don't tell me you're _that_ egotistic." And yet she doesn't break free.

Elena cocks her head, suspicious. She knows full well that if Katherine wants to break away from Damon, she will in a heartbeat. _So why is she allowing him to restrain her?_

Stefan's also shaking his head, but in a much different manner. "Can you two stop arguing for one second?" They pause, and he walks up beside them. "Katherine, let's be real here. Your attempt at killing off the Gilbert family has proven to be a complete failure – as your schemes usually are – and right now these werewolves are irrational and fueled with rage. Once they manage to get their emotions under control, they'll realize what they've done."

"And they'll regret it," Damon adds, earning a glare from his brother.

Despite the circumstances, Elena holds back a weary laugh. They both want to handle Katherine in their own way; Damon by intimidation, Stefan by using calm reasoning. Neither method seems to be working to their advantage, and for some reason that amuses Elena. She knows things have to be getting pretty desperate if she takes pleasure in her own friends' pointless arguments.

"Why don't we just stake her?"

This unexpected statement comes from Bonnie, who's beginning to sweat from the effort of keeping the werewolves aloft. The hand extended in their direction is shaking crazily, rising up and down with an uncontrollable twitch. She seems on the verge of passing out, but there's a distinct expression of angry determination on her face, one that's unfamiliar to Elena.

"Stake her?" Stefan is genuinely puzzled.

Bonnie nods firmly. "She's caused nothing but trouble for us, and trying to reason with her evidently isn't working. Tossing out threats isn't either," she adds, narrowing her eyes at Damon, whom – even after everything they have been through – she still doesn't fully trust.

"That seems a bit drastic," Elena says in a soft voice. She's disturbed by the violent look in Bonnie's eyes.

"Does it?" Bonnie asks rhetorically. "This girl has put us through hell time and again, and she just announced less than ten minutes ago that she wants to _kill off the rest of your family_, Elena! That includes you and Jeremy, in case you've forgotten." Her voice is rising, slowly and steadily. "Staking her will solve all our problems once and for all."

Bonnie and Stefan lock eyes, and for a moment, they seem to have some sort of telepathic conversation. Their eyes glaze over, and Elena takes a hesitant step in their direction, but she can practically feel Damon's glare from across the clearing. He doesn't want her anywhere near whatever's going on between the witch and his brother, and Elena has to admit she's frightened to venture closer to them while they remain frozen in that odd way.

But then Stefan finally returns to himself, breaking eye contact with the witch, and swivels slowly to face Katherine and his younger brother. There's an odd smile on his lips, one that makes Elena momentarily question his sanity.

"Maybe that _is_ the best way," he says finally.

Caroline gasps, and Damon cocks his head to the side, studying his brother intently. Yet another telepathic conversation seems to take place, one that Elena isn't privy to. The brothers both glance at Bonnie simultaneously, then refocus on Katherine.

"You know, that sounds like the _best_ idea you've ever had, witch." Damon smiles snarkily. "Good going."

Bonnie nods in response, but now most of her attention is centered on keeping the werewolves off the ground. In a few more minutes, she will have no choice but to let them down, and that's when everything will inevitably fall apart…again. Elena doesn't think they can afford to lose this particular round.

Katherine's eyes narrow, and she stares at the Salvatore brothers with apparent consternation. "What are you doing?" she asks, a slight hitch in her voice.

Stefan shrugs. "Right now, we're taking a vote." Turning his back on her, he says loudly to Elena, Caroline, and Jeremy (who has remained conspicuously silent thus far), "So do we do it or not? Do we stake Katherine, or let her go so she can return in a few months to torture us again?"

Jeremy doesn't even hesitate. "Stake the bitch. With the trouble she's caused my family, I think it's the least we can do. I would prefer to draw her death out a little, but hey…I'll take what I can get."

"Jeremy!" Elena exclaims, whirling on him. "What are you saying?!"

He glances at her, a clear message in his eyes. "I'm doing what's best for everyone, Elena."

She gazes at him, stunned. There's something he's trying to tell her, but she's unsure of the message. There are so many possibilities. She knows it must be important enough to keep secret, otherwise he would just speak the words aloud. _It must be something he doesn't want Katherine to know,_ she realizes suddenly. _Something that involves staking her…but what?!_

"I'm gonna have to agree with you guys," Caroline says slowly. "This bitch has got to go. For _good_."

"Okay, really?" Katherine asks snarkily, just the slightest hint of anxiety in her voice. "Am I really known around here as _the bitch_? That's considerate of you."

"Please." Caroline rolls her eyes. "You're one to talk about consideration."

She inclines her head as if to say, _True_.

"Elena?" Stefan asks, staring her straight in the eye. "What do you say?"

"Um," she replies, stalling. There are so many questions pinging around inside her mind, and she really feels ready to burst with confusion.

First of all, she wonders why everyone wants to stake Katherine _now_. There has been plenty of time to do that before – _countless_ times, really – and yet not one of them has ever mentioned it. Then there's the mystery of what Bonnie has communicated to Stefan telepathically. Elena senses it's relevant to what's going on here in the park clearing, but she can't pinpoint exactly what it is that's so damn important. And of course there's the question of what in the world Jeremy has been trying to tell her.

_ Think, Elena_, she scolds herself silently, her eyes narrowing with concentration. _There's an obvious answer to all of these questions; you just have to _think!

Then, just before the dots connect and everything falls into place, a soft, explanatory voice speaks inside her head: _We're not really going to stake her, Elena. Bonnie came up with the brilliant idea to scare Katherine into aborting her plan and leaving Mystic Falls…for the time being. _The voice scoffs angrily. _I personally would love to stake her right here and now, but alas, I don't think anyone – least of all you – would agree with me. So we've resorted to scare tactics. Try to play along, Princess._

Damon's voice abruptly cuts off, and she glances over at him, wide-eyed. He shakes his head slightly, and she knows he's telling her not to give their charade away. Katherine must _believe_ they're honestly going to stake her...although they apparently aren't.

Elena can't help but feel immensely relieved. Her ancient ancestor has caused endless trouble for the lot of them...but she can't allow anyone to perform such a monstrous act on her lookalike. At least, not when Elena is around and can do something to stop it.

_ Me and my damn morals._

Forcing herself to nod, Elena says quietly, "Let's do it."

"_What_?!" Katherine shrieks, her voice piercingly loud. "You really think you can stake _me_? Oh," she adds, chuckling darkly, "I don't think you have any _idea_ how much you're going to regret this." She shifts uncomfortably in Damon's grip but - once again - makes no move to escape. Elena begins to wonder what her deal is.

A ridiculous train of thought flits through her mind, almost too quick to grasp - _Maybe she wants to be staked maybe she's experienced too much pain maybe she wants to finally die_ - before Elena's attention is forced to refocus on the conversation at hand.

But, subconsciously, she wonders.

"We won't regret it," Caroline says with a careless shrug. "In fact, some of us might even…_enjoy_ it." She casts a furtive but knowing glance at Damon, who's lounging against a thick tree trunk, both of Katherine's wrists still captured in one of his pale hands.

Elena knows then that if Katherine truly wants to escape, she would have done so by now. A pinprick of unease skitters up her spine as she considers what this might mean for her group of friends.

"Well, let's go! Do it already," Katherine snaps, her voice shaking with fury. Maybe it's just her imagination, but Elena thinks she can detect some relief in her tone as well.

Stefan swiftly runs over to a tree, rips off a huge piece of the trunk, and meticulously slices off thick chunks of bark until it begins to resemble a somewhat haphazardly constructed wooden stake. It's by no means perfect, but it doesn't necessarily have to be; as long as the tip is pointed enough to be thrust through an undead heart, it will work. Actually, the poor craftsmanship makes the weapon appear even _more_ deadly.

After a moment, Stefan zips over to his brother and Katherine. She doesn't seem to want to escape anymore, and Elena knows that's a sign of defeat - and acceptance? - if she has ever seen one. Despite herself, she feels bad for Katherine, even though the entire ordeal is really just a harmless façade.

"Shall we?"

Damon smirks and steps forward to claim the stake. "Allow me."

Stefan hands over the crudely constructed weapon while Damon transfers Katherine's wrists to his older brother. There's a brief moment – nothing more than a split-second, really – when her captors are distracted and her wrists are momentarily free. For no legitimate reason, Elena wants Katherine to at least _try_ to escape. She doesn't know why, and she doesn't understand what in the world will make her feel this way, but at this moment, she wants nothing more than for Katherine to break free. She can do it, too; Elena knows she's capable of pulling a stunt like that. _More_ than capable.

But the moment passes, and Elena finally resigns herself to the fact that the "staking" is inevitable. Katherine wants to die – anyone who looks into her old eyes can see the tired yearning – and maybe that's for the best. At least this way, Katherine has a choice. Instead of being on the losing end of a fight to the death, she's allowing herself to pass on without actually putting herself in harm's way.

"Any last words?" Damon asks, raising a sardonic eyebrow.

Katherine smiles cruelly. "See you in hell, my dears."

There's an instant of clear-cut silence – an instant of peaceful tranquility in which Elena can forget what's about to happen – and then Damon pulls the stake back, poising the tip directly over Katherine's frozen, unbeating heart.

The Bulgarian opens her mouth to shriek (or maybe it's to sigh with relief), Elena opens her mouth to protest that they are going way too far, Jeremy draws in a sharp breath, and –

Bonnie bursts into loud laughter.

Of course, her concentration is severed at once, and so the werewolves are released. All six of the mangy beasts thump back to the ground, their bodies hitting the dirt with such force that some of them squeal. Clouds of dirt-filled debris rise into the chilly air, briefly obscuring the wolves from Elena's view.

Katherine's mouth hangs open in unabashed confusion. "_What's_ – _what's going on here_?!" she shrieks, her tone making it clear that someone should start to explain before she explodes in total bewilderment.

Everyone immediately tenses at the panic in Katherine's voice, but when she makes no threatening move towards any of them, they all relax. Bonnie's giggles eventually subside – though not before she begins hiccupping uncontrollably – and the Salvatore brothers look on with satisfaction.

"It's time someone taught you a lesson, Katherine," Damon says softly, and abruptly releases her wrists.

She stumbles, but – being a centuries-old vampire – manages to right herself immediately. Absently massaging her wrists, she says slowly, "I don't understand. You're actually passing up your chance to stake me?" Again, it must just be her imagination, but Elena thinks she hears..._sadness_ in Katherine's voice.

Caroline rolls her eyes. "We aren't passing up our chance, Katherine. If we wanted you dead, you already would be." She sighs heavily. "We were _never_ going to stake you…okay?"

"Don't talk to me like I'm an ignorant child," Katherine snaps, lurching at the blonde-haired vamp threateningly. Elena can tell that her sudden anger is stemming from her confusion. She still doesn't have much of a clue as to what's happening.

Jeremy stares at them all, unblinking. Elena silently wishes she could run to his side and help him to understand – maybe even soothe him if he will let her – but she honestly doesn't know how he will react if she approaches him. After all, Elena's obviously a vampire now…and she has no idea how Jeremy feels about that. He might become violent, and she can't handle that sort of reaction right now.

"You sure act like one," Damon says with a smirk. "If you were smart, Katerina, you would be long gone by now. And yet, here you stand…" Letting this sink in, the younger Salvatore brother falls silent.

"Oh, please. I'm not afraid of any of you." Katherine tosses her long brown locks over one shoulder and stares back at them defiantly. A gleam of disappointment shines in her eyes.

"You should be," Elena says in a soft voice. She speaks so low that Jeremy has no idea she's said anything, and so he continues to gaze at his surroundings in puzzled silence while the others acknowledge her words by inclining their heads slightly to the left.

Katherine scoffs, but at that moment the six werewolves, who have been surveying the scene – momentarily forgotten by the crowd of vampires – dart into the deep shadows of Mystic Falls' Central Park. Their paws thud against the earth in an oddly rhythmic beat, drowning out any attempts at conversation. The Bulgarian's eyes widen as she watches the key components of her plan scamper away with their furry tails tucked between their back legs.

"I've got to hand it to them: those werewolves may be disgustingly filthy, but they sure know a losing battle when they see one." Damon raises his eyebrows, daring Katherine to deny this statement.

She hesitantly backs up a step. "This battle is continuous, Damon," she replies, her voice scornful. "I may never win, but at least I will never lose either."

"That's definitely some twisted logic," he says, nonplussed. "In fact, it doesn't seem like you're in your right mind, Katherine." He suppresses a knowing smile. "I think your fear is showing."

She opens her mouth to protest, but Elena suddenly steps forward. "You forget, Katherine: _you_ may never lose, but neither will _we_. Our chances of winning this on-going battle are equal. And sooner or later, you'll have to lose because – let's face it – the odds are in our favor."

Dead silence.

Katherine glances away. Everyone knows that – for the time being – she has been outwitted. There will be no great battle today, and probably not for weeks to come. They will be safe until then…and more than ready to retaliate when the time comes to defend themselves and those closest to them.

"You should leave now," Bonnie says quietly, "before you do something you'll regret. We've had enough of your antics for one evening, Katherine. Go on." She jerks her head towards the dark forest.

She hesitates, the expression on her face one of great concentration, before she finally swivels and, without another word, disappears into the woods.

After several seconds of tense silence, Damon says loudly, "Well, I'm glad that's over."

Caroline laughs weakly. "I thought she would never leave."

"Ditto," Bonnie adds. Now that the threat is out of the way, and she no longer needs to keep up a strong front, the witch slumps, her expression pale. Elena knows that the magic she has performed tonight must have taken a massive toll on her health.

"You must be exhausted," she whispers sympathetically.

Bonnie nods tiredly, and Jeremy instantly makes his way over to her, capturing her fragile hand in his. They smile at each other, glad to have made it out of this particular battle alive. Elena's brother supports the expended witch as she starts to collapse.

"Okay then," Damon says, gesturing behind him. "Let's get our witchy savior here off to bed. And," he adds, throwing a glance Jeremy's way, "we'd better hurry. It's past little Jer's bedtime."

This earns him a well-deserved glare.

Stefan, who has remained strangely silent throughout the whole Katherine affair, offers to carry Bonnie back to her house. Jeremy reluctantly agrees, and the three of them start walking. Side-by-side, they stride briskly through the trees, intent on putting the night's adventures behind them.

"Hey, Blondie," Damon calls. "Scout ahead for us, will you?"

Caroline, who has been studying her nails with a frown, snaps her head up and nods once. She's gone an instant later.

Damon sighs. "This is too much work for someone my age."

"Please. Someone _your_ age?" Elena comments, rolling her eyes. "You're always bragging about how young you feel."

He shrugs and falls into step beside her. "What can I say? I changed my mind."

"And you'll no doubt change it again tomorrow."

Damon doesn't argue, and they continue to follow the exhausted witch, tight-lipped vampire, and befuddled human through the park. Everything's oddly quiet. There's no bird song, and the rustling breeze seems muted. _Everything is taking a rest, like I should be_, Elena thinks tiredly.

After they have walked for quite a while, Damon murmurs softly, "You must be tired…and I don't mean physically. You've been through quite a lot in these past few hours."

Elena shrugs and avoids his eyes. She knows what he says is undeniably true, but she has learned to "suck it up" and soldier through the difficulties in life. When you are constantly surrounded by supernatural creatures like she is, self-reliance becomes the norm.

"I'm not one for sentimentality," he continues, taking her thin hand in his, "but being a vampire is difficult enough – as we all know – without things like _this_ happening. You should be learning how to control the bloodthirstiness that comes within the first few hours of the transformation, Elena. You shouldn't have to be thinking about how to outwit an unpredictable vampire who has nothing better to do than ruin the lives of past lovers." Damon sighs and shakes his head. "What I'm trying to say here is…I'm sorry."

"So am I," Elena replies, gripping his hand tightly in hers. "So am I."


	11. Afterparty

She drops her filthy, dew-covered clothes into the washing machine. Wrinkling her nose, Elena sets the dial to HIGH RINSE and shuts the lid, then winces involuntarily as it bangs like a gunshot. She knows it will take her quite a while to get used to hearing everything at top volume.

Sighing, she walks into her living room, which takes all of about point two seconds. Her own speed completely fascinates her. Elena no longer has to worry about obstacles or directions; she merely has to think about arriving somewhere, and her body will already be moving. She also doesn't have to worry about food or water or toiletries. Those things alone will save her hundreds of dollars (not that she really _needs _money anymore…but still). Now that she really thinks about it, being a supernatural creature is pretty convenient and cost-effective.

Slouching down on the couch, Elena kicks off her muddied shoes. "I really wish I wanted ice cream right now," she grumbles.

But of course her appetite can no longer be sated by eating carbohydrates or junk food. She knows that.

Staring blankly at the living room wall, Elena hopes Bonnie's doing better now that the night has finally ended. When the group split up outside The Grill, Caroline insisted on accompanying the witch back to her house. Her friend's worry is understandably justified though; Bonnie hadn't seemed entirely herself. She wobbled a little when she walked, and something in her eyes told Elena that her mind had been very far away from Mystic Falls. And of course the shock of hearing that her boyfriend might possibly be dead is something that will exhaust anyone.

Elena knows better than to worry about Caroline; the independent blonde-haired vamp has proven time and again that she can take care of herself. That left Jeremy – who retreated into his room the second they entered the house (and without saying a single word to Elena) – and the Salvatore brothers – who each seemed distracted after Katherine left the scene.

But she doesn't really want to dwell on anyone else for the rest of the night; she's done worrying and nagging and probing until sometime tomorrow morning. Right now, she just wants lie down on her bed, close her eyes, and…_be still_.

Liking the sound of that, Elena swiftly stands up from the couch and zips upstairs in less than a second. She closes her door soundlessly behind her, though not before she catches the hint of a snore coming from down the hall.

Pressing her lips together in a tense smile, Elena flops down on her bed (although the movement is more graceful than awkward). The fabric of her blue cotton pants and matching tank top rub silkily against her skin, eliciting another wistful sigh. She already misses the nights when she sat in her comfy pajamas and listened in an absent sort of way to Bonnie (or more often Caroline) drone on about some new drama at work or school. Life had been embarrassingly simple then.

Leaning back against a mountain of pillows, Elena closes her eyes and thinks ruefully, _As the saying goes: out with the old, in with the new_. It just so happens that the _new_ is a life filled with late-night seek-and-find missions involving younger brothers and a lovely game called Kill Or Be Killed with a three hundred year old vampire who honestly has too many grudges to count.

A faint noise suddenly interrupts Elena's internal musings, and she immediately freezes, concentrating hard on whatever has caused it. Something seems to flicker across her closed eyelids, and her body tenses. Counting silently to three, she opens her eyes without warning and, turning her head, shoots the intruder a fierce glare.

"Fancy meeting you here," Damon says by way of greeting.

"Yes," Elena replies dryly. "Imagine finding me in my own house. Who would've guessed?"

"Wow." Damon's eyebrows rise approvingly. "This is a side of you I haven't had the pleasure of seeing before: sarcastic Elena," he muses, sliding off the window seat. "I think I like it."

"I'm _never_ sarcastic, Damon," she deadpans, and shuts her eyes again. She hates to admit it, but his presence still unnerves her. Before, she had hoped – naively, she now knows – that her emotions would be somewhat…_subdued_ as a vampire. Specifically where Damon is concerned.

"Shutting me out won't work," he sighs, nonplussed by her obvious annoyance. Her bed creaks as he sits down next to her. "In fact, it will only make me more aggressive."

Elena huffs. "Please, Damon, haven't we been through enough tonight? I'm tired."

"C'mon, Princess," he says softly. "You don't need sleep anymore. You're going to have to find a new excuse."

She opens one eye, peering at him with unconcealed frustration. "That's not an excuse. I'm _mentally_ exhausted, okay? I'm still allowed that, right?"

He rolls his eyes. "Of course you are. Stop being so melodramatic."

Quick as lightning, she grabs a pillow and throws it at his head. Just as quickly – and in a move so smooth it makes Elena feel even more inexperienced – Damon catches it in his fist and settles the plump mass of downy feathers in his lap.

"Nice try," he says, and winks.

"I'll be faster next time," she grumbles, turning her head away to stare out her bedroom windows.

The window blinds are pulled all the way up, so she can see the enormous oak tree that usually shields her front lawn from the sun. The autumn-colored leaves cast light shadows across the freshly-mown grass and the cement sidewalk beyond, while the giant trunk itself blots out most of the street. With her new vision, Elena spots several constellations and some individual stars scattered across the clear night sky.

"I can teach you," Damon says suddenly, relaxing next to her. Their shoulders brush, and a bolt of what feels like static electricity runs up her arm and spreads throughout her body.

"You want to teach me how to accurately aim my pillow at your face so I won't miss?" she asks, purposefully misunderstanding.

He laughs, low and rich. "No, Elena. I want to teach you how to move faster, think clearer, react swifter than you ever have before. Ten times swifter. A _hundred_ times swifter. Now that you're one of us," he adds, gesturing vaguely to his chest so that she knows precisely what he means, "the possibilities are limitless."

She shrugs noncommittally. "I'm not interested in being _better_, Damon. I'm interested in surviving and taking care of my brother. Aside from those two things, nothing else really matters. You know?" she asks after a moment.

"Nothing else?" he questions softly, and Elena knows he's _willing_ her to make eye contact.

Her stomach drops. She doesn't want to go where he's headed…but it looks like she has no other choice. Besides, they will have to confront this issue eventually, so why not now? This moment is as good as any. _Why _not_ now_? she asks herself again, and furrows her eyebrows when she can't come up with a legitimate reason.

"You know what I mean," she mutters vaguely.

"I don't think I do. Can you explain it to me?"

She sighs and glances at him out of the corner of her eye. "I'm just…very busy. There's a lot going on, and…and you know I don't handle stress well."

"Oh, I know that when you're stressed out you tend to pause in the middle of your sentences."

_Damn_, she thinks sheepishly. _He knows me too well_!

"Well, you _are_ kind of putting me on the spot, Damon," she says finally, turning to him. His face is only inches from her own, and her entire field of vision is engulfed by his dark eyes.

"That's only because I want an answer. Once you give it me…I'll leave you alone." His eyes flash.

Elena snorts. "I doubt that. If you don't like my answer, you'll probably try to convince me otherwise, and if you _do_ like what I say…" She trails off, knowing that _he_ knows what she's insinuating: that he will immediately try to seduce her (or at the very least attempt to steal a kiss).

When he remains totally silent, Elena clears her throat. "Okay, fine. You and Stefan…and Caroline and Bonnie and Jeremy…all matter to me. Happy?"

"Now, now. You don't think I'm going to let you off _that_ easy, do you?"

She tenses as he shifts onto his side, propping his head up on his elbow. He scans her face slowly, pausing when his eyes rove over her lips and eyes. He stares intently at her, probing for more information. She wants to know where he's going with this…though she has a sneaking suspicion it will be nowhere good.

"What about The Grill?" Damon says softly, and just the mention of what happened in that corner booth releases a flood of memories and sensations in Elena's mind.

His strong hands on her hips…his lips trailing gently down her neck, pausing every so often to press tenderly against her own…his smoldering eyes twinkling mischievously whenever their gazes met…the unique, intoxicating taste and smell of him…the rough texture of his leather jacket as she pulled herself across his lap, yearning to be closer…

When she speaks, her voice is a few octaves lower. "That was a one-time thing, Damon. You know that."

"No," he counters automatically. "No, I don't know that. Elena," he adds, placing a delicate finger on the side of her neck, "we both know that wasn't a _one-time thing_. Why can't you just allow yourself to –"

"To what, Damon?" she interrupts, a spark of anger in her voice. "To cheat on Stefan? I can't do that, not after –"

"You won't be cheating on him!" Damon exclaims. Suddenly he sits up, moving his face and the rest of his body away from her. "Let me remind you that immediately after you phoned me from Matt's truck and told me that Stefan was your first-and-only choice, _you plunged off the bridge and drowned_. Elena, you had no time to tell Stefan that you chose him. Think, Princess: _what does this mean_?" He stares at her, a maniacal glint in his usually serene eyes. "Don't make me spell it out for you."

She merely stares at him blankly.

"Fine. It means that I'm the only one who knows your final decision." Damon lets this sink in for a moment before adding, "And there's still time to change that decision, Elena. I know you have morals and standards to live up to, but please, if you…love me like I…like I love you…"

The words catch in his throat, and he has to look away. His jaw works up and down as he tries to come to terms with his emotions, which he always keeps brutally in check.

Elena stares at him, heartbroken. She knows what she's doing to him – she has known it all along – but actually seeing the effect her actions have on him in person is devastating. Damon means so much to her, and she hates to hurt him in any way. It's like seeing a reflection of all the horrible things she has and _will_ do. His expression is filled with such a terrible longing that she sits up next to him, her hand instantly coming up to touch his cheek.

"Damon," she says softly. "I'm so sorry." To her dismay, tears begin to pool in her eyes. "I just don't know what to do. It's so h-hard," she stutters, her words blurring together as a mounting sadness crashes over her. "I don't w-want to hurt anyone, but th-that's all I seem capable of d-doing!"

It doesn't take very long for Damon to wrap her in his arms. Making gentle soothing noises, he leans his head atop Elena's, rocking her slowly from side-to-side. Her sobs pierce his heart and elicit a flood of guilt within him. Her pain is his pain, and the agony is amplified because he knows that _he_ is the main cause of her feelings of distress and indecision.

"This is not okay," he murmurs softly. "Lately it seems like at least one of the two of us is falling apart."

Just as he hoped, she laughs (albeit weakly). Straightening up, Elena collects herself and manages to smile. Damon can still see the sadness in her eyes, and he resents it. Without thinking, he reaches up to brush several leftover tears from her wet cheeks. Using his thumb, he swipes them away, trying to dry her face as effectually as he can without making it seem obvious that each tear cuts him deeper and deeper.

The side of his mouth quirks up into a slight smile, even as he breathes out a disappointed sigh. Leaning away, he opens his mouth to apologize for putting her on the spot.

He doesn't get very far.

Elena, mesmerized by his lips, closes the distance between them and presses her lips against his. The taste of him explodes inside her mouth, and her eyelids flicker closed. She gropes blindly for a moment before she finds his hands, and once she has, she entwines their fingers. _Yes_, she thinks. _Finally_.

Damon, meanwhile, is frozen.

Sensing his reluctance – or rejection? – she pulls back, pouting. "Something wrong?"

He blinks. "Are you sure you…I mean, this is –"

She silences him by giving him another long, tantalizing kiss. "I'm sure," she whispers. "Trust me."

He doesn't need to be told twice. Pulling her into his lap, he ravages her face with countless kisses, starting at the corners of her mouth and working his way down her neck, across her collarbones, and behind her ears. She straddles him as he nips at her earlobes.

Smirking, Elena runs her hands up and down his chest. "You know," she breathes, "I haven't realized until now just how long I've been waiting for this."

He pulls back to say, "Doesn't matter. I've been waiting twice as long."

She rolls her eyes as she methodically unfastens his signature black button-down. "Always have to be the best, don't you, Damon?"

"You wouldn't recognize me otherwise, Princess," he replies, helping her push off the restraining fabric.

"True," she agrees, kissing the hollow at the base of his neck.

He makes a noise halfway between a sigh and a moan, and Elena's excitement spikes. She knows that if she still had a heartbeat, her pulse would be hammering at this point. Although she's nervous, Elena knows that they are now on a more equal level…so really, there's nothing to fret about.

She tells herself this as Damon flips her over, pining her arms down at her sides.

"My, my," she says softly. "Someone's getting a tad aggressive."

His one eyebrow rises. "Sweetheart, if you think _this_ is aggressive…" He doesn't bother to continue; instead, he trails his fingers down her neck and arms, and stops at the hem of her silky tank-top. With a flick of his wrist, he tears the fabric straight down the middle, revealing a lacy black bra.

"Mmm."

Elena laughed. " '_Mmm'_? That's all you have to say? Really, I'm surprised, Damon."

"You should be proud of yourself, Elena," he says softly. "You've rendered me speechless." Pressing a delicate kiss on her parted lips, he breathes in her scent, relishing the moment. "That's not a feat many people have accomplished."

"Mmm," she says, mimicking him. "Lucky me."

Bare-chested and supporting his weight on his arms, Damon leans in close, watching with silent satisfaction as Elena's eyes darken, the irises becoming nearly as dark as when she's in full-on vampire form. Shirtless as well, and strangely breathless, Elena wraps her arms around his neck as he lowers himself and covers her with kisses. Finally pausing long enough for her to capture his wandering mouth, Elena moans with desire.

Unsnapping the button on his jeans, she gives him a devilish grin.

And that, of course, is when Jeremy walks in.

* * *

**Oh, man! Just when it was getting good, right? Well, leave me a review and blah blah blah~ **


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